There's Nothing Mere About This Mer
by RCN
Summary: I'm not an Elven. I'm a Dragon. Fus! Ro! Da! (Semi-crack, btw.)
1. Chapter 1

Familiar Zero and Skyrim Crossover

Not Beta-ed, and for some reason i often confused between first and third person perspective. i think i fixed that, though

Zero no Tsukaima and Skyrim Doesn't belongs to me

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"Who are you?" asked the girl intently, examining my face, the clear blue sky is visible behind her.

She looks so young. Underneath a black cloak, she wore a white blouse and a gray pleated skirt. She knelt down and looked, shocked, at my face.

_Her face is... strangely cute._ Reddish-brown eyes danced upon the stage of her flawlessness, white skin and strawberry blonde hair. _She looks kind of like a Nord, _A cute, doll-like, super-short Nord. _Maybe she's half-Breton?_

_Still, that's some kind of uniform she's wearing, isn't it? I don't recognize it._

I was lying on the ground, face up, though i was unsure of how i had got there. I raised my head to try to make sense of my surroundings. A crowd of people in black cloaks were curiously examining me. In the distance, on an endlessly rich grassy plain, I saw a huge castle with stone walls, just like the ones in Solitude.

_It feels so familiar. But.._

_. My head is killing me._ Giving my head a shake, i give her my name, "Who am I...? I'm Uriel."

"Where are you from, commoner?"

_Commoner? Ah, must be some kind of royalty, then?_ Everyone around me had some sort of stick in their hand and wore the same uniform as that girl's. _Did I wander into some kind of magic training facility?_

"Louise, what were you thinking, calling a senile commoner with 'Summon Servant'?" someone asked, and everyone but the girl who was looking at my face started to laugh. I feel insulted. I _am_ old, but certainly not senile. or am I?

"I... I just made a little mistake!" the girl in front of me shouted in a wave of panic mixed with anger that reminds me of Nirnroot in the middle of frost dragon verbal debate.

"What mistake are you talking about? Nothing unusual happened."

"Of course! After all, she's Louise the Zero!" someone else said, and the crowd burst into laughter again.

It appeared the girl looking into my face was named Louise.

_Either way, I don't think I'm in Skyrim anymore._

At first, I just assume that the people here is of Nordic ethnicity, but between normal color of black and red, I noticed some of this people have some really elaborate hair color.

Green, purple, blue, all the color that I never seen before. In fact, I just realized the blond in that one girl is actually just a trick of the sun. her hair is actually _outlandish pink. a Pinkette._

So, this place either made by super-aesthetic god, or hair dye is super popular, which isn't exactly ubiquitous in Skyrim.

_and why I was sleeping outside?_

"Mr. Colbert!" the girl, Louise, shouted.

The crowd parted, revealing a middle-aged man. I'm feeling anxious, because the man looked like a black mage. He carried a big wooden staff and was covered in a black robe. But hey, don't judge people from just appearances, right?

_Laas Yah Niir_

Three words of Life, Seek, and Hunt, whispered in ancient dragon tongue, left his aura bare for me to see.

_Human Wizard, not a black mage., Affinity: Destruction: Fire. Leader type, not hostile._

I decided that I ought to stay quiet until I understood what was going on. Maybe I can talk my way out of it.

The girl named Louise sounds desperate, begging to redo something and gesticulating frantically.

_I feel sorry for her, but she does looks adorable like that, though, like a daughter I always wished for._

"What is it that you want from me, Miss Vallière?"

"Please! Let me try the summoning one more time!"

_Summoning? That's right, They mentioned it earlier._

Mr. Colbert, the man wearing the black robe, shook his head. "I cannot allow that, Miss Vallière."

"Why not?"

"It is strictly forbidden. When you are promoted to a second year student, you must summon a familiar, which is what you just did."

_Familiar? Wait…_

Now, I just realized that I was in the middle of some sort of giant and complicated summoning circle.

It's really well made. A confusing line drawn with, as I can felt the magic resonating from it, a melted soul gem, or something else that can be used as magic conduit.

This is the kind of summoning circle used to summon and bound a _permanent_ familiar. And I'm in the middle of it.

_By The Nine! What I get myself into now? One time I was drinking mead in…oh, son of a…_

_Sanguine._

That must be it right? Sanguine, the Daedric Prince of hedonism. Last time I drink mead with him, I married a Hagraven.

The man in black keep on talking, his bald spot resonating the sunlight like human torchlight.

"Your elemental specialty is decided by the familiar that you summon. It enables you to advance to the appropriate courses for that element. You cannot change the familiar once you have summoned it, because the Springtime Familiar Summoning is a sacred rite. Whether you like it or not, you have no choice but to take him."

"But... I've never heard of having a commoner as a familiar!"

Everyone around laughed. Louise scowled at them, but the laughter didn't stop.

The man in black pointed at me.

"He may be a commoner, but as long as he was summoned by you, he must be your familiar. Never in history has a human been summoned as a familiar, but the Springtime Familiar Summoning takes precedence over every rule. In other words, there is no other way around it: he must become your familiar."

What kind of logic is that?

"You have got to be joking..." Louise drooped her shoulders in disappointment.

"Well then, continue with the ceremony."

"With _him_?"

"Yes, with him. Hurry. The next class will begin any minute. How much more time is this summoning going to take? After mistake upon mistake, you have finally managed to summon him. Hurry and form a contract." Everyone voiced their agreement and began jeering.

Louise looked at me, clearly troubled.

_Seems like I've been summoned to be a familiar for this girl, but according to this 'Colbert', the contract isn't sealed yet. Maybe…_

"Um…, excuse me, little miss, but I'm afraid there's been a mistake.., for I'm…"

"Hey." She cut me off.

"Yes?" I answered in reflex.

"You should count yourself lucky, old man. Normally you'd go the rest of your life without a young maiden like me doing this to you."

"Now, wait a minute! I…"

She ignored me completely.

Louise closed her eyes with an air of resignation. She waved around the wooden stick, which now assured me that it _is _a magic wand, in her hand.

"My name is Louise Françoise Le Blanc de La Vallière. Pentagon of the Five Elemental Powers; bless this humble being, and make him my familiar."

_Humble being? Now that must be one of the most insulting way to seal a familiar contract…hey, wait a minute…the contract is being sealed!_

"Wait! I…"

_Chu…_

She kissed me.

Just like that. She kissed me, on the lips.

_What kind of contract is this?_

I can feel it. Her magic is flowing through her soft lips into mine, and then goes to my left hand. Must be why she choose to kiss me on the lips, since it is the easiest for magic to go through. That is why I always target the head.

_And what am I doing being all analytic when cradle-robbing a little child?_

I felt a little burning sensation, but nothing compared to dragon fire.

"Did you feel something?" Louise asked me.

"Um, Excuse me?"

"Did you feel anything? Like burning sensation or…" she sounds anxious.

I take off my shrouded glove, revealing my left hand where I had felt the magic flowing to before.

There is a strange rune on my hand that I could easily recognized, it looks like the letters been written by a single paw of a dragon, each had three or four lines that looks like a claw mark.

_Dov Ah Kiin._

_Dragon Hunter Child_

Translated to the mortal tongue, Dragonborn.

That is what I am, a mortal blessed by the gods with the soul and blood of a dragon. And getting stronger by absorbing the soul of other dragon. I'm kind of picky about whom I get to eat, though. I consider soul eating as a form of cannibalism.

As she saw the rune, I can feel her relieve.

"You have failed 'Summon Servant' many times, but you have managed to succeed with 'Contract Servant' in one try," Colbert said happily.

"It's just because he's only a commoner."

"If he was a powerful magical beast, she wouldn't have been able to make a contract."

Some of the students laughed.

Louise scowled at them. "Don't make fun of me! Even I do things right once in a while!"

"Truly 'once in a while', Louise the Zero," laughed a girl with gorgeous curly hair and freckles on her face.

"Mr. Colbert! Montmorency the Flood just insulted me!"

"Who are you calling 'the Flood'? I'm Montmorency the Fragrance!"

"I heard that you used to wet the bed like a flood, didn't you? 'The Flood' suits you better!"

"I hadn't expected better manners from Louise the Zero."

"Watch it! Nobles ought to show each other the proper respect," the middle-aged wizard interjected.

That was one damn good insult battle, though. The Flood. Heh. But 'Zero' is a bit too far, I think.

"Well, let's go back to class, everyone."

The middle-aged wizard turned on his heel, then rose gently into the air. Flying. The other people who looked like students also floated up.

Flying, always postpone the research for that particular use of magic back in the college, I blame having a dragon as a mean of fast travel.

Second reason why I think it's not Skyrim, then.

The only ones left behind were me and the girl named Louise.

"Louise, you'd better _walk_ back!"

"She shouldn't try to fly. She can't even manage levitation."

"A commoner is perfect as your familiar!" the students jeered as they flew away.

As soon as it was only the two of us, Louise took a deep breath, turned towards me, and yelled, "Who are you?"

Along my long line of life, I have learned that the best way to clear up a misunderstanding is through speaking. It help that my first case of 'misunderstanding' is burning down Markath. That sort off etched the concept to my brain. That city is made of stone, too. And I accidentally burnt it down to the ground. Damn.

So, confident in my speech skill, I choose to be blunt and told her who am I.

now, I have a lot of names and titles, but I choose one that most likely to get my buttocks out of this mess.

"My name is Uriel Stormblade, Arch-Mage of the College of Winterhold."

"…"

"…"

"Um, Miss Vallière?"

Ah…

She passed out.


	2. Chapter 2

Please take note that English is not my first language.

And I have my reason to believe that I'm drunk when writing this.

Disclaimer on fanfiction website? get real.

I'll try to write the next chapter sober.

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My name, is Uriel. I like to use parentheses, alliterations, side notes, and often get confused by the letter 'S'.

Oh, and I'm also batshit insane. (Just so you know)

Now, did anyone see my hat?

Eh, sod it. That hat is ugly anyway.

Moving on….

A mere thirty minutes ago, I had been walking down a street in Falkreath, Skyrim; on Tamriel.

I was on my way back to my tent after a strategic meeting in the Generals' tent, discussing the final attack against the Thalmor in Skyrim. (Also, Legate Rikke thinks that it was impossible to drink 20 barrels of Deathbell mead in 20 seconds. _I had proven her wrong.)_

The Empire of Cyrodiil, the Redguards of Hammerfell, and the People of Skyrim have form an unlikely pact (creatively named The Alliance) to fight against a common enemy; the Second Aldmeri Dominion and its ruling body, the Thalmor, a group of radical Altmer in the Summerset Isles who espoused the supremacy of the various races of Mer over the Nedes.

PS: If you ask how unlikely the pact is, getting Ulfric and Tullius to work together involved a female goat in heat, a keg of stale milk, bunch of smelly cheese, and one/two squirrels used for blood sacrifice. You don't want to know the detail, (believe me. I took care of that problem personally.) Except if you are into a not-so-platonic male-to-male bonding.

Seeking to recreate the First Aldmeri Dominion, the Thalmor expanded their power into the provinces of Valenwood, Elsweyr, and briefly into Cyrodiil and Hammerfell. Following the consolidation of Valenwood and the Summerset Isles into the Second Aldmeri Dominion, the Dominion began a policy of expanding Aldmeri influence and power across Tamriel at the expense of the Empire of Cyrodiil. The Aldmeri Dominion first expanded into Elsweyr, adding the Khajiiti kingdoms of Anequina and Pelletine as its client states.

This conquering beast has to be stopped.

The Alliance have created two front, in Cyrodiil, the war would still take a long time to end, but here in Skyrim front, we but only need one more final push. Then we can join with the defensive Cyrodiil forces, push The Dominion back through Elswyr, then Valenwood, all the way to their main territory in Summerset Isles.

And ironically, me, an Altmer, is one of the allied forces commander.

I said that, but I mostly just following order from the higher ups. I'm not the leader type; I got that rank simply from sheer fighting prowess.

So, no heroic commandeering for me, just killing.

And maybe some knee breaking. (Mostly with bow and arrows. I like the sounds. _Sproing! Scwhinch! Splorch!)_

And eye stabbing. (_Scrunch!_)

And taking people heart out when it's still beating. (_Thump! Thump! Thump! Squish!)_

And throw people off from high cliff. _(AAAAAAARRRRRGH! * SPLORCH*)_

…

Good thing war is terrible. Lest I'll grow too fond of it.

I was walking past an empty stable near the corner of the Allied army encampment situated slightly outside the city border.

My tent location is devoid of people. Since following the example of the Hero of Kvatch, I often spend my time meditating on my skills and the days events, making me stronger and wiser everyday. That is why I need some form of tranquility.

Suddenly, my path is blocked by a shining, mirror-like object, reflecting my image on its surface. It is a large ellipse in form, about two meters high and one meter wide, with no substantial thickness. Then I noticed it was actually floating a little above the ground.

One of these days, I would curse my curiosity as an educated mind. (Yes, educated. I'm insane, not stupid.)

"What kind of magical phenomenon is this?" I wondered, scrutinizing the sparkling mirror-like object. "This is beyond odd, I've never seen or heard of any kind of magical portal like this."

I see a lot magical portals that look like demonic-looking cloud. _D'arvit_, I even created some, but never something that I can actually use as a mirror.

I considered sidestepping it, but my curiosity got the better of me. I wanted to see if I could actually walk through it.

I picked up a pebble and threw it experimentally at the disk. The pebble disappeared into the middle of the mirror-like object.

Is one of the Daedric Princes trying to summon me? Is it Nocturnal, calling me to protect her temple? Or maybe Sanguine just needs a drinking buddy?

One thing for sure? Sheogorath must have cursed me with giant case of idiot ball that day (or maybe I'm just piss drunk. 20 barrels, remember?), since I decided to poke the damn thing, _with the Blade of Woe._

**Note to Self: Poking an unidentified floating magical portal with cursed blade fed by the soul of the dead, _IS NOT (under most circumstances) A GOOD IDEA._**

As an intense shock assailed my senses. I suddenly remembered back to when I was a child, when mother had brought me a strange machine that supposedly made a person smarter by switching part of your soul with that of a fox. It felt a lot like that. I fainted.

When I opened my eyes...

I met this strange girl (her hair is pink).

She's really cute.

She's short, thin, with face and skin that remind me of a porcelain doll.

And a hands and fingers that looks so delicate that you'd fear you'll break it if you even merely glance at it.

I would like to adopt her if possible.

But she also linear minded and bossy that in the same time, I want to punch her in the face.

She accidentally summoned and bound me in permanent Familiar summoning. Thus, I am now her Familiar, and she started to order me around.

That is, until I took off the hood of my Arch-Mage regalia and bow down after introducing myself as the Archmage of the College of Winterhold, in which then she passed out. I guess guilt can really weight so much on some people. She must had realized what a grave mistake she made. Summoning an Archmage and bound him as Familiar against his will, imagine the political shit-storm that would occurred!

Granted, I don't think I'm in Skyrim anymore, and that the name 'Arch-Mage of the College of Winterhold' wouldn't mean much here. So maybe it's just my ears.

I really need to take care of that fur coming out of my ears. Even the guardsmen in Markath are suspicious, and that one guard in Solitude already thinks that I'm a Werewolf.

Anyway, I currently have an unconscious little girl here that needs to get transported, or else she'll catch a cold.

I lift her up, and put her on my shoulder. Her weight betrayed her looks, she is actually pretty heavy.

Grudgingly, I walk towards the stone castle.

The castle is pretty big, built in the form of pentagram with a tall tower as the main structure connected with five smaller towers on each corner. The fact that the central structure is a tower much higher than the outer wall, quickly draw me to conclusion that the whole castle is built purely for aesthetic. A castle which its main structure can be taken down with single precision strike from high enough level battlemage or even a standard catapult certainly isn't meant for defense purpose.

Still, it takes me some time to figure out where the door is. So I guess it's a plus point for the castle's defense value.

The first door that I find happens to be a kitchen backdoor.

I can see the kitchen is pretty busy. I can smell chickens being roasted, fine wines being poured, and spices being mixed as a well rounded man in his forties with epic-level ginger beard, that I assume is the head chef, commanded the kitchen with a wave and a flourish of his hand. Servants in strange black and white dress uniform moving about like flock of bird in the middle of a thunderstorm.

Splendid! Now I can ask for direction.

The staff are so busy, though, that no one notice me coming in with comatose girl on my shoulder (well, she's kinda looks like a sack of potato now, being carried this way.), And with the amount of knife-clanging and stew-boiling this kitchen has, it is unlikely that simply cleaning my throat would attract any attention.

Now, as an educated person, I wouldn't scream demanding attention, or smashing my foot on the desk, or Shout the staff to oblivion like I know some _bosh'tet_ would do if they have the kind of power I had, I am a simple man that just happens to be able to control reality with his voice. so I do what most simple man would do in this situation (getting summoned to gods know where and forced to be somebody else slave/servant for possibly the rest of his life not regarded).

I put Little Miss. Valliere in a wooden chair I found leaning against the wall near the door. It has a simple arm rest and curved back, so I don't need to worry about her falling off or anything, but now I'm not really sure the kitchen staff really didn't see her, or simply trying to ignore her. Because the looks of pink hair lightened up by the light from the fireplace, I had to admit, is pretty jarring and unmistakable against the grey stone wall.

I poke the I-assume-is-the-head-chef-person back, I which he responded with turning around a grunting "Yeah, what is it? Be quick, don't you see I'm busy? If you here delivering the meads, drop it in the corner with the others."

My, my. A little bit hostile, isn't he?

Alrighty, then. Uriel's rule of survival number one: _ADAPT_.

"My, sir, I am afraid you are mistaken. I am not a courier, but a personal servant of my mistress Valliere here." Said I, while pointing at the sleeping figure near the door.

Partially true, though it is a servitude I sincerely hope I can get out of soon.

"Ah, a Noble." Said he, with some extra flavor of hostility. "What did she want?"

Uriel's rule of survival number two, 2 ounce Carrot powder, 5 sheets of Hagraven's feathers, 1 Giant's toe, and little bit of fire salts, an ounce of sediment shaped sediment that also shaped like fish…

Wait, that's my special sweet roll cake recipe. Ah, here it is. Uriel's rule of survival number two:_ lies are always a valid tactic._

"Yes, about that, I don't think it is the problem about what she wants. See, I am her new servant that just came here today. After she greets me at the gate, she accidentally sprained her ankle and fell, hitting her head against the corner of a big desk, thus she lost consciousness. I am new here, so I am not yet familiar with the layout of the castle. Can you show me the way to the Infirmary? Or if not, the path to her quarter? So that she may rest until I can get healer to look at her tomorrow?"

Again, partially true. I was summoned here today, I'm forced to be her Familiar (though I don't know how strong the contract's bound is) straight at the 'gate', which is the summoning circle, and then she passed out.

I don't know why I would put on a 'lowly servant' persona right now. I guess I just like the anonymity. It gives mobility.

At least for now.

Or maybe I just like to screw around with people.

"…"

"…"

Silence.

I hate it if silence happens when I expecting an answer. It either means the person in the other end of conversation is suddenly too busy being dead, or I failed a speech check.

And so I feel relieved when he summoned who seems to be the only free-handed person in that busy kitchen. A young woman in her early teen.

"Alma, please show this good man here the way to the Infirmary. And come back quickly, I would need your help to organize the confectionery before dinner."

"Yes, sir!" that girl answered vigorously. Hmm, she looks quite happy when she was given a task…which mean that she wasn't just slacking off before.

"Shall we go now? Mister?"

"Wha? Oh, yes, yes, please, lead the way, ma'am."

With a smile, the servant girl opened a door located at one corner of the kitchen, politely held it in place for me to come through.

I grabbed Little Miss. Valliere (She's still as heavy as before. I think she needs some diet.), and walk through the door. The servant girl quickly follows, and starts to guide me through a large hallway.

Out of habit, I take note of the castle interior, trying to remember the outline and layout, and start to draw mental map in my head. Of course, getting lost inside a castle with other sane people is not as bad as getting lost inside a Dwemer ruin with berserking Dwarfen Animi and crazy Snow Elves, but still…

Hey, as I said, habit.

The kitchen located at the central tower, near what I assume is the main dining hall.

The hallway I'm currently walking in is pretty big, enough for a mature dragon to walk through without hindrance. And it seems to lead to one of the smaller tower at the corner of the castle

A long red carpet covered the stone floor with some sort of symbol embroidered on it with golden threads. A golden pentagram.

_**Tristain Academy of Magic.**_

_So this place really is a magic training facilility. Is 'Tristain' the name of this place?_

Chandelier hanged from the ceiling for every ten steps, glowing with magical light.

A series of large windows with stained glass in one side of the hallway.

Facing that, a series of large doors made from some kind of strong wood.

I take note on how this castle was built almost entirely by magic. When I'm this close, I can sense the magic vein under layers of stone and glass, strengthening them.

And how all the doors have some sort of magical lock. And how barriers and jinxes are placed on every portals and window frames, preventing intruders from coming in undetected.

I stand corrected. This place has pretty solid defense.

I'm still convinced that I can take it over with an army of nine men, though.

The servant girl, Alma, has a blue hair (Or aquamarine, damn this place is weird.), long with sharp curve near the ear. Her face is what I would call the 'Generic Every-girl'. She has a pale skin and dull blue eyes. Wearing the same black and white uniform just like the other servants I see before. Her breasts are modest.

She's also bandaged on her right hand.

Just as I finished examining her (No, I'm not a pervert. Just simply having a good sense for my surrounding) she turned around and stopped, visibly looks worried. This is a face of someone hesitant to say something, but also intrigued at the same time.

Uriel's rule of survival number three: _Be polite._

"Excuse me, Ma'am, is there something on my face?"

Beside my awesome beard, that is.

Blushing madly, she barely managed to answer me.

"Ah…no. it's just…um. There's no need to call me Ma'am…you are much older than me."

Is she trying to divert the conversation? Heh, cute.

No, really. This girl is cute.

"But you've been here longer than I am, ma'am, so you are my senior, even if it's only in technicality."

That what I said.

Either that or I'm just being _slightly_ overly-polite.

"But I thought you are personal servant of mistress Valliere?"

"True, but in order to serve my mistress, I would need to interact extensively with the castle staff, so I would be no different than your other co-worker here, Ma'am. And if my mistress let me, I would be happy to help around the castle with the other servants as needed. Your people only have to ask, ma'am, and it shall be done with utmost efficiency."

I think I messed up a little there. It sounds too…forged. _Awkward._

By the way, that is rule number four: _Be Efficient._

_Savvy?_

"Ah…um…yes. Thank you, I'm looking forward to working with you, mister…" luckily Alma doesn't notice. And for some reason, her blushing is intensified.

Wow. This girl is sure a shy one.

"Uriel, Ma'am."

"Mister…Uriel?"

"Yes, just Uriel, Ma'am, no surname."

I usually put one of my many titles behind my name, such as Stormblade, just for extra 'oomph' factor, but I don't see the need to do so in the current situation.

Alma then told me her name, probably for formality.

"Ah…I see…I am Alma. No surname. It is a pleasure to meet you, Mister Uriel."

She pulled the edges of her skirts and made a curtsy.

I crossed my arm, left fist on my right shoulder and vice versa. Then bow to make my own.

"The pleasure is mine. Now, ma'am, may you enlighten me of the reason of why we had stopped?"

Between our conversations, she apparently had forgotten that we are standing still in the middle of giant corridor.

"It's…"

She's in doubt, I can tell you that much. For a minute, there is silence. Only the soft sound of breathing from the unconscious Little Miss. Valliere on my shoulder can be heard.

"Come on, don't be shy. You want to say something, aren't you? Ma'am?" I try to encourage her, less we stay here until morning. (I'm using my teasing tone, by the way)

Hesitantly, she opened her mouth to answer me.

Well, her answer is actually a question, a question that is troubling for me too, at best.

"Mister Uriel, you are not human, are you?" she said that with a drop of accusation. It is…unsettling.

"And why would you though so, Ma'am?" I asked.

"Your eyes gave it away." She said.

"My eyes..?"

Ah, yes, my eyes, of course.

"I can't see it back in the kitchen because it was pretty dark, and you're wearing that hood, but now I can just barely see it. Your eyes _don't have pupils_."

That's right, my eyes don't have pupils. I don't know why, maybe whoever god designed my character model though that big eyes that consisted entirely of pure black orbs is cool. Heck, maybe he/she thought it was cute.

No matter what though, I usually find it useful for haggling, or when I'm interrogating people. Having eyes resembling a portal to Oblivion itself has it advantages. Intimidatingly so.

It is also a great conversation starter.

"That is true, Ma'am. I am not human_. I'm a dragon_."

Haha! I love saying that! It takes skill and just the right tone to make people confused whether you are being serious or just joking, but their reaction when I tell them that I'm a giant fire breathing lizard are just _hilarious._

I can't describe it to you. Let's just say, that Alma's eyes inflate. Like a fish.

Alright, maybe I'm exaggerating a little bit there.

My point is, she is confused, and making a funny face.

But suddenly…

"Prove it." Said Alma.

What?

Wait, that wasn't confusion in her eyes before. It was _excitement._

"Prove it. Prove it that you really are dragon. Can you breathe fire?"

She repeated her demand.

I can no longer sense fear in her voice. Gone is all sense of doubt, only childish curiosity.

_Well, that was unexpected. _

Remember when I said that you need skill and just the right tone to make people confused whether you are joking or being serious?

Well, I think my theory just backfired. With the exact mixture of curiosity and determination and slightly too much of puppy dog's eyes, Alma used just the perfect tone to put in a question of whether am I really are a giant winged lizard. Enough to make me babblingly confused.

Whatever. I can play along.

"Err…well, I sure could, Ma'am, but this is indoor, and that carpet looks expensive."

Suddenly, as if by magic (or maybe it is, either that or hidden automaton system) a series of curtain drop down to cover every windows in that hallway as the night start to get darker.

"Yes, those curtains look expensive too."

"Aww…" Alma starts to walk again.

If she's joking, she's _really _good. She actually sounds disappointed.

"I never saw a dragon before. So when you said that you were a dragon, I get a little too excited. I'm sorry"

Oh, she's serious?

"But Mister Uriel, I heard that dragons have wings and scales!"

She stopped, suddenly sounds cheerful again, and starts to circle me. She's checking my backside.

By the way, yes, Little Miss Valliere is still out cold. Hope she doesn't have a concussion.

"But I don't see your wings anywhere! Are you really a dragon? Mister Uriel?"

"Err…yes, Ma'am. I don't have wings. I'm a half-dragon."

I just had to say it.

"Eh? Then human can mate with dragon? Is it your ma or your pa that is a dragon, Mister Uriel?"

That is probably one of the most annoying aspect of being a Dovahkiin. Stupid questions being asked all the time. (Dragoness is recessive trait, by the way.)

I don't want to answer that question, but _d'aaaaaww_…._look at that wide, completely expecting eyes!_

I have weakness to cute things. That's why the only creature that ever managed to even come close to killing me (beside Alduin) is a (300+ years old) _child vampire._

"Perhaps my grandfather from my father side is a dragon. My mother doesn't breathe fire, and my father is human."

"So your father can breathe fire?"

"I don't know, ma'am. I never met him."

"Oh." Alma looks down. "I'm so sorry. I…Did not meant to…"

She looks like a guilty prisoner front of her _algojo._

"Ma'am, I'm turning two hundred and fifty this year (lie). It would be weird if my pa is still around, is it not?"

Suddenly she looks cheerful again. By her drastic mood swings, and how she seems to get excited whenever our conversation hit the topic of a me being half-dragon, I had deducted that I am, in fact, talking to dragon enthusiast that, somehow, don't know what dragons looks like.

"You are 249 years old? But you look like mid-thirty! How long can a dragon lives, Mister Uriel?"

"Most dragons are immortal, ma'am." In fact, all of them are immortal, except those whose soul I devoured, of course.

"I don't know about half-dragon, but if 250 looks like mid-30, I'd say I can go another 500 years, maybe?"

"Waaahhhhh~"

That is…must be one of the cutest kind of voice one uses to convey awe, ever.

I suddenly hear another cute voice from a very close proximity.

"Umm…huh? Wha…"

Then Little Miss. Valliere decided to wake up. About time.

"Ah, Little Miss, thought you were dead!"

She then started to look around, trying to make sense of her surrounding. Then she realized where she is. Namely, being carried like a sack of potatoes on top of my shoulder.

Hey, how else I'm supposed to carry her? Bridal style? It's ridiculously tiring, and the hair of the one being carried always stuck on something. Especially long hair like Little Miss. Valliere's.

"What…You!"

She started to struggle against my grasp on her waist.

She almost fell. Which would be bad, since I'm about twice her height and she's upside down.

"_Ahwhops!_ please be patient, Little Miss."

I caught her, and then drop her gently on the soft red carpet.

Then she turned around, pulls me to my knee, and screams.

"YOU!"

DAMN! She's LOUD!

"Um…Yes, little Miss, this is… me?"

"You…you are…gah!"

"Huh? Little Miss? Do you caught a toad in your throat when you fell?"

Hm…that's a possibility.

Her face is red, her gums are showing, and her teeth grinded against each other. A mixed expression of anger and something that I don't really understand is on her face. Is that…fear? Confusion? More anger?

She's scary.

It's like facing a dragon. You know you can take them on, but there's also possibility that they pull off a cheap critical single-hit kill and bite your head off and kill you instantly. Even at full Health.

She's like a dragon, a really tiny dragon. _A Palmtop Dragon._

A Palmtop Dragon…I can't help but chuckle at my own inside joke.

"You…stop laughing! Don't you aware of the situation you're in right now!"

Well…to be honest…

"Err… No?"

Wooops. Wrong word. Now she's looking even more angry.

"What! Stop joking around! You smug El…Oh."

She looks at Alma. I…think she just noticed her presence.

"Hmph."

When Little Miss. Valliere glare at her, Alma seems to _shrunk._ Don't blame her. If my black eyes looks like it can drag you down to oblivion, Little Miss' red eyes (The gods that created this world has a sick sense of color, I tell you that.) feels like it can bore through you with huge arse heat beam at any moment.

Maybe if I…YEAOW!

I felt my collar getting pulled. It hurts.

"Come!"

Little Miss Valliere then start dragging me along the hallway, back to the main tower.

"Ugugugugugu…Little Miss…it hurts…"

It's _painful._ She's dragging me on the collar, and she's half my height. Ever try to run while crouching? While being choked?

In the distance, I can hear Alma shout.

"See you later! Mr. Dragon!"

Little Miss. Valliere did not stop when we reached the main tower. Instead, we go around the tower, and go through the door at the other side of the tower that leads to another hallway. We run through it real quick and then climbed a spiraling staircase at the end of that hallway, and with me still crouching and being chocked, we reached the top of one of the castle's smaller tower.

This tower is the Tristain Academy of Magic's dormitory.

Well, one them, anyway.

Little Miss Valliere (Little Miss. I just _love_ saying that title. _Cute!_) open one of the doors that lining up neatly in a circular fashion along the tower's inner wall.

And she kicked me inside. Ouch mah poor buttocks.

Eh. She's not any worse that any of my other 'Bosses'. Remember all that business with female goat in heat back around the first paragraph?

Louise's room is pretty big. About the size of my entire house back at Whiterun. If you treated the window as south, the bed would be situated on the west side, the door would be to the north, and a big wardrobe would stand to the east. All the furniture looks normal…for a noble.

She quickly took a seat on the edge of her bed. Then take out a dried bread from a compartment in her bedside desk.

That reminds me. Alma should be back at the kitchen right now. Taking care of the confectionary to be served at dinner. My Little Miss must have intended to skip dinner all along if she had prepared that bread (Probably from breakfast, judging from the stench.). I wonder why.

Back in the college, dinners always have been a moment of joy among the student body. A short, rare chance to socialize with a friendly atmosphere after all day of mashing each other faces with Firebolt. (No time for love confession when the girl you're hitting on is too busy aiming that Ice Spike at your nether region.)

Dinner time back in the college is always been fun. Except if you don't have any friend, and then it would suck.

"Is that true?" asked Louise, looking at me with an expression of fear, curiosity, and (again) anger. There is heavy air of seriousness surrounding us.

"What is true?" I took out a dried bacon from my riding bag. I'm hungry too.

"That you are, as you said, an Archmage?"

"Well, of course I am, Little Miss! Here! have a bacon!"

I throw a strip of salted pork at her. She caught it with surprising agility. Maybe she's taking magic swordsman as specialty?

"Eh, you can make a fine knight with reflex like that."

"No. I am a mage. Always been and forever. Now, answer my next question, Elf."

Scaaaary….

_Chomp._ She took a bite out of her bacon. Now she's cute again. Must be that plump cheeks.

"_Aye,_ Little Miss. Ask, and I will answer."

"Mr. Colbert…"

"Middle aged, balding, fire affinity?"

"Yes…How..? Never mind. He cast 'Detect Magic' on you back at the summoning circle. And he detects _nothing."_

"Oh…"

That scared me a bit. I never cast any spell since I get here, am I? Maybe the summoning botched my magic circuit?

Need confirmation.

_**Magelight.**_

A small miniature red sun is produced from my left palm, flown away as seems to be following an nonexistent wind, then stop-hover about 10 centimeters away from the ceiling.

"Nope, still a mage."

Phew.

The room is now glowing bright red. Better take care of it before anyone looking out their window noticed.

With satisfying _Ticlh, _that little sun is gone.

"How…without wand or staves…is that spirit magic?"

That awe-filled face decorated with a bit of bacon is really cute.

"spirit magic? No…that just simple Alteration spell…a controlled fusion reaction wrapped in multi-layered ablative ethereal barriers. Then, it's simply about opening portal to Oblivion for disposal of matter."

She looks confused. Of course. Magelight is easy to cast, but the fundamental are hard to explain. Like explaining how can a creature with only two legs is capable of standing straight.

"I have no idea of what did you just said…But you did not use wands…how did you focus your willpower?"

"Willpower…? Wait, this 'willpower'…is this some kind of 'Odo'? Is that what your mages use here? Inner power? The kind that only comes with bloodline?"

"Well, of course it is! How else it supposed to be? That's why only nobles are mages! And…only mages…can be noble. "

That last part sounded a bit dowry. Wait, only nobles are mages? And vice versa? Wow, truly this place's logic has been kicked to the curb.

"So…your entire society is based about who can and who can't do magic…"

I see. A literal meaning of 'Royal Blood'.

"Well, back in my home, that kind of system wouldn't work. Since _even the lowliest peasant can cast magic!"_

Little Miss Valliere (Mara's dimpled buttcheeks. Can't get tired calling her that. _Cute!_) almost chocked on her bacon.

"Here, have a drink." I hand out my waterskin.

She drank it to half empty in under twelve seconds.

"A PEASANT can't use magic! That preposterous!"

"In my place, anyone can be a master of magic with enough dedication and effort. I've been a farmer once."

"But then why I CAN'T USE MAGIC!"

Little Miss Valliere screamed.

_Hahi?_

"If it's about EFFORT, I topped them all! In theory, history, and basic knowledge, I am the smartest of them all! But WHY?"

Damn.

"Why! Amongst all the nobles in this Tristain Academy of Magic, I am the only one is ZERO! Why I always failed at APPLICATION of MAGIC!

It's okay, Little Miss. Let it out. This loyal servant of you will gladly take your bacon flavored spit as you screaming around uncontrollably if that means you got a chance to vent out.

"EVERY. SINGLE. TIME! Every time I'm trying to cast even the simplest of magic. There is EXPLOSION!"

Dunno 'bout that, Little Miss. Explosions wins the war.

"Small explosions! Big explosions! Medium explosions! My name Louise Françoise Le Blanc de La Vallière, harbringer of explosions of all shapes and sizes!"

That is…actually sounds awesome. Can I have one mushroom shaped explosion, please?

"Alchemy! EXPLOSION! Alteration! EXPLOSION! Cooking? Guess what? More EXPLOSION!"

Well, You can never had enuff explosion for a single lifetime.

Louise keeps rambling incoherently. Tears start wells up. Her face red with rage.

Ugh. Forget the war. Great General Bruce Kamina Norris can take care of the Thalmor. And so does my 'Five Housecarls of the Apocalypse'. I need to take care of this broken bird.

"Little Miss…"

Louise still crying…

"Little Miss Valliere…"

She did not respond.

Oh, Bummer.

"LOUISE!"

"WHAT!"

"MY NAME! IS! URIEL! ARCHMAGE OF THE WINTERHOLD MAGICAL COLLEGE AND THE HEAD OF SKYRIM MAGUS COUNCIL! CAN I INTEREST YOU IN OUR PRIVATE CRASH COURSE PROGRAM SURROUNDING THE APPLICATION OF MAGICKA!"

…

"…what?"

_Now _she calmed down. Damn. That took a lot.

"What I'm saying is…would you grant me honor of becoming your mentor of the way of the Magicka?.."

Her wet eyes now looks curious again.

"Magicka…is that just some fancy way of saying 'Magic'?"

"No. Magicka is the art of gathering 'Mana' from your surrounding by turning yourself into some sort of 'magic circuit'. Mana is a metaphysical, binding, and ubiquitous power created by everything around us. It surrounds us and penetrates us; it binds the world together. Controlling 'Mana' means that you literally control the building blocks of the universe, the power that makes the world _exist._ This power is, in theory, unlimited. Practitioners of Magicka with enough training and thus, strong enough magic circuit to withstand the strain of channeling the power of _entire existence,_ can either, in theory, make this world prosper with a snap of a finger, or destroy and create a new one on a whim. The possibilities are endless."

…

"Wow."

Little Miss Valliere's awestruck face is the best!

"I…Never knew magic could be so complicated…"

"Yeah, and the best part is, _absolutely everyone can learn it! _As long as there's will, there is a way! So, what did you say, Little Miss? Would you like to build your very own magic from scratch with your very own effort? Without all that bloodline _gobsmacker _stuffs?"

"Hmph."

"Little Miss?"

…

Silence.

Then…

"Eh, so in the end, it still comes to willpower…very well! When it comes to _that _kind of 'willpower', I won't lose! I'll be your student, El…_Mentor!"_

…

Score.


	3. Chapter 3

A/N: The author has stopped giving a shit about this fic middleway through chapter two.

From this chapter forth, the author would only write when he's in a massive drunken stupor and already forgot both canon…and everything else, for that matter.

Please take note that our point of view character is still half-drunk. And an idiot. And a liar.

**/**

**/**

**/**

**/**

**/**

**I am the bane of my kin**

**Mortal is my body, divine is my blood**

**I have devoured over a thousand souls**

**Unknown to death**

**Yet too big for life**

**I have scammed the gods, to gain immortality. I have kicked apocalypse in the nad**

**And then Donald Duck get married to Frankenstein**

**Does that two sentences even related? **

**No, But alas, of course it's just bullshit**

**Truly this world is made of shit**

**So as you squat**

**Unlimited crap works**

**And yes, this doesn't makes any sense for me either. Oh, and all hail Trope-tan, the ruiner of lives.**

* * *

When I finished my meditation, the first sight that greet my multi-faceted, black crystal eyes are…women underwear.

Little Miss Louise's lower underwear, to be precise.

It looks fancy, made of silk with pink floral pattern.

It somehow had ended up on my face after being carelessly tossed away.

Louise is still asleep in the bed, snoring gently, almost naked, night-gown half put on in the lower part of her body. Only one nudge away from being completely naked. Her chest bare for all to see.

'What a slob' I thought, as I picked up her clothing from all over the floor.

I carefully fold it, and put it in a nice stack near the foot of little Miss' bed.

Her sleeping face was simply divine. Now she seemed a lot more childish. A lot cuter, if that even possible.

Little Miss that I saw yesterday is…fiery, for lack of better word. A determinator that can take on army by herself with sheer willpower. Maybe. I'm not too sure, my memory of yesterday is little bit cloudy. (Note to Self: 20 barrels of Deathbell mead straight after 2 big jugs of Nirnroot ale, is too much even for a dragon.)

But Little Miss now is just like a sleeping baby. Safe inside her cradle with no worry for the world.

Can't blame her. She must be really tired after all we're going through last night all the way until morning.

After she agreed to be my student, I decided to do some review, to see how deep her knowledge in magic arts is.

And…the fact is…it's pretty shallow, really. Mage of this place apparently don't know about magic except the 'Inherent gift' kind, in which someone is born with hereditary abilities that are quite specifically defined. (fire mage, water mage, wind mage, earth mage, In addition to their superhuman ability to survive puns.)

But Little Miss is not kidding when she said she's the smartest student here. She's really is an attentive pupil, One of a kind. We ended up discussing Theurgy/Conjuration, Rule of Magic, Alchemy, Force Magic, Device Magic (Staves and gemstones), Uncontrollable Wild Magic, Divination, Elemental Magic (destruction tree), Necromancy an its morality, Transmutation/Alteration, Equivalent Exchange, Mentalism/Illusion, Spirit Magic, what can be considered 'black' or 'white' magic, and some Zoology. (I'm especially interested in Griffin and Salamander)

We did it until it's near dawn. Little Miss must have tried to change into her night gown, but instead collapsed from exhaustion, onto her bed.

I am also pretty tired. Mainly from culture shock. I just found out last night that I was summoned to _another godamn continent. _With magic system that is somewhat different from the Imperial Magic School I followed. (They refer to 'Alteration' as 'Alchemy' here. This made my educational talk with Little Miss last night to be somewhat confusing.)

The revelation started when Little Miss expressed her disbelief when I said that everyone is allowed to learn magic in the College of Winterhold, from the richest elf to the poorest human. because in this place, nobility is literally based on bloodline, _Magical _bloodline. And human peasant is not allowed to learn magic. Well, they can't use magic, anyway. No magic bloodline.

One thing leads to another; she then asked where Winterhold is. I answered 'Skyrim', when she asked where Skyrim is, I simply answered that Skyrim is a major kingdom on the north of Tamriel continent. Then she said that she never heard of Tamriel before.

Apparently I've been summoned to 'Tristain', a small kingdom at the center of Halkeginia continent.

Well, cockblasted_,_ at least I'm still in the same plane of existence. There's still two moons in the sky, and the night sky, albeit being somewhat different, I can still recognize some of the constellation. Imagine what sort of hassle it is to me if I'm being summoned to completely different plane (e.g, one of the Oblivion realms). That would be problematic.

As I picked up Little Miss bra (did she even need one of these things?) that I found under her bed, I start to ponder of what I'm supposed to do here.

'_Now that I think about it, this is kind of like a sightseeing tour. I wonder what kind of world this is?'_

I opened the window to let some morning breeze in, and the turning off the magic lamp at Little Miss' bedside table.

'_I wonder what this world could teach me? Flight certainly would be useful, and the magic system in general is different enough to intrigue me. While I don't like the idea of being a familiar, I should try to make the most of it, in any case.'_

A sudden breeze is coming inside the room, waking up Little Miss from her peaceful slumber after the morning chill touched her bare chest.

"Ah! Good morning, Little Miss! I hope your sleep is good, despite being rather short?"

She's now sitting on her bed, tiredly rubbing her eyes, then yawning while stretching her arm up. Her pink nipples look contrast to her white ivory skin.

She's still needs more sleep, that I understand.

She looking around aimlessly, trying to adjust her eyes to the morning light.

She then set her gaze on me, then to her bra that I still have on my hand. (Why I'm still holding this thing, exactly?)

Then she looks at her bare chest.

Aaand…there's her angry face again.

"AAAAAARGH!" I'm pretty sure that her scream can be heard all the way from High Hrothgar.

'_Uh-oh, should have known better.' _I dropped her bra, right before Little Miss pull out something from under her pillow.

At first I though it was her wand, and about to compliment her for being well-prepared, but then I remember that Little Miss can't use magic.

Well, not yet, anyway.

Instead, she pulled out what seems to be…a weird technological device, most likely a weapon, which looks like a short metal pipe covered in wood with a handle and have a weird clockwork system.

"Um…Little Miss? What is that?"

Little Miss doesn't answer. Instead, her red eyes is concentrated on me, aiming that strange device.

"If that's a weapon, I mighty suggest that you put it down…this is me remember? Your new mentor?"

No reaction.

"Er…Your Familiar? You summoned me yesterday?" From another godamn continent, too, mind you.

Ah, there. She put down her…um, thing.

Little Miss is scary when she really, really wants to kill somebody.

"Oh, it's just you."

'Just' me? Wow. That's rude.

"Don't you think you're being a bit rude to your mentor?"

"You're not my mentor. Yet." Say Little Miss as she fixed her nightgown into proper position.

"You haven't taught me anything. yet."

"What about our little discussion last night?"

"That doesn't count. We merely discuss the difference between the magic system here and in your…place."

She boldly (and nakedly) walks towards the wardrobe at the other end of the room. Clearly she doesn't see me as a man.

"Yes. And I realized that the difference is…pretty fundamental. But I'm still convinced that I can teach you how to use magic as demanded from…someone of your social status."

I still think that government hierarchy being dictated by bloodline magic is pretty stupid (Inbreeding ahoy!). I heard of the term 'Blue Blood', but this is just ridiculous.

"A Fireball is still a giant exploding ball of flame, no matter how you create it." Says me.

"Hmm…true." Respond Little Miss as she starts to get dressed.

"So you are my mentor, or at least will be. But don't you dare to think that you are of a higher status than me. I still got the leash on you."

"What leash?"

"The fact that you are an elf."

"Ahh…_that_ leash."

Ah, yes, back to that topic. Yesterday, when she discovered that I am an elf, Little Miss immediately passed out.

Apparently, all elvenkind is the enemy of 'humanity' in this place, and prone to get executed on sight. Little Miss explained this to me last night, but I'm not really understand.

I think it's either a minor land dispute, or something about bananas. Forget which.

The thing is, in this land, Elf is as equally taboo as a demon. Little miss was actually trying to _banish_ me last night, calls the teachers, and sent me straight to the chopping block, before I offered my service as a teacher.

Can't use magic in a place where magic dictates nobility. Poor little thing probably desperate to learn some magic that she does what is probably Tristain's equivalent to make deal with a Daedric lord. Making a deal with an elf.

Yet she still wears that strong 'Alpha Bitch' façade. It is admirable, really. Helps keep the masquerade, too. I'm supposed to be the submissive familiar, and she's my noble, dominant master. All is well and good.

And if something goes really wrong, killing everyone is always an option.

"Now hide your ears. We're going down for breakfast." Commanded Little Miss.

"Aye, Little Miss."

"And stop calling me 'Little Miss'. It's irritating. From now on, always call me 'Mistress'. "

"Aye, Mistress." The word 'Mistress' might makes me sounds more submissive, but it's cute in its own, dominative way. Beside, I'm a submissive type of guy. It easier to walk your life if someone is there telling you what to do.

Why do you think I created a quest log in my journal?

I pulled out a blue magic circlet from my riding bag. I usually don't wear this because it's sort of looks like a tiara (And thus, looks silly beyond comparison), but it really good to keep your knife-ears tucked behind your head. (It hurts, by the way.)

As I put my hood back on, I saw Little Miss…err, mistress put the strange device she pointed at me earlier into some sort of holster tied around and over her white shirt. After she fixed her black cloak, that device is gone, perfectly hidden under it.

"Um…Mistress, what is that thing you pointed at me earlier? Is that some sort of weapon?" I asked.

Mistress Valliere answered with some hint of pride in her voice. Or maybe it's something else entirely. I don't know, I'm not really good at reading people. Not as good as Commander Phelps, anyway.

"Oh, you mean my Wheellock?" as to make her point, she took out her 'Wheellock' from under her cloak, with such agility that clearly hinted a total familiarity.

"What? You doesn't have guns in Skyrim?"

"No…May I look at that?" I moved my hand to touch this peculiar new thing called 'gun', but As if to insult me, mistress quickly put it back under her cloak.

"Maybe later." She said.

As I left the room with mistress, I noticed that one of the three other doors at that level of the dorm tower is opened. And from it, emerge a girl with flaming red hair. She was tall for a human, between my height and mistress Valliere. She gave off a strongly flirtatious aura. Her face was attractive, her skin was tanned, giving her the look of healthy and natural beauty. The top two buttons of her blouse were undone, highlighting an HOLY TWIN MELON IS THAT HER MAMMARIES?

Is…is that some sort of magical breasts implant? Certainly it is, because that…those, things! Definitely ain't following the basic law of physic! No parts of human body supposed to bounce that way!

When this…this, 'marshmallow monstrosity', saw Mistress, she grinned broadly. (On completely unrelated note, I love marshmallow. I invented that stuff, you know.)

"Good morning, Louise." Said the marshmallow monstrosity.

Mistress returned the greeting with a frown.

"Good morning... Kirche."

"That... is your familiar?" Kirche asked somewhat mockingly, pointing at me.

"That's right."

You know, at places like this with its fantastic racism against elf in general is where I feel the luckiest that I'm an adventurer. Years of traveling under the sun and get sprayed by dragon's fire has made my skin tone to be only slightly lighter from that of a human. And my hair is long and rough because I never bothered with a scissors and just cut it at neck-length with my dagger. An Archmage regalia that is also designed for travel has a hood to protect one's ears from Winterhold's eternal winter. Not to mention my beard. All this fact helps me to hide my true nature as an elf, which is a pretty unpopular race even back in Skyrim.

"Ahaha! So it really is a human! That's amazing!"

See?

As for my eyes, well, this 'dead-eye' isn't exactly subtle. But just for convenience, Babette (The child vampire I mentioned earlier. Beside alchemy, also good at sewing.) has modified my hood to resembling the new Assassin Brotherhood style. Impersonating an Eagle's head, the 'beak' of the hood is constantly keeping the shadow over my eyes, practically making my total black eyes disappears under perpetual darkness. Also good to block the sun.

"It's just like you to summon a commoner with 'Summon Servant.' What else to expect from Louise the Zero?"

Mistress' white cheeks flushed scarlet.

"Shut up."

"I summoned a familiar yesterday, too. Unlike a certain somebody, I was successful on my first try."

"Really." The fact that I'm being referred as a failure is not lost to me.

"And, if you're going to have a familiar, it should be a good one, like this. Flame!"

Kirche called her familiar triumphantly. From her room, a large, dark-red lizard slithered out. With a flaming tail. It is awesome.

And I think I recognized it from my talk with mistress last night. A giant lizard with clear elemental mark is…

"Is that a Salamander?" I asked.

"Aha! You are pretty sharp for a commoner! That's right! A fire lizard! See, look at the tail. A flame this vivid and large means it's without a doubt a salamander from the Fire Dragon Mountains! It's like a brand! Collectors can't even put a price on these!"

Who's on their right mind would want to collect something that can burn down their house by wagging its tail, I have no idea.

"That's nice," said mistress, her voice bitter.

"Isn't it? It matches my affinity perfectly!"

"Oh, then your affinity is fire?" I asked once more. Forgot to add 'Ma'am' there, as a good servant should, but Kirche is being too busy being drowned in pride to notice.

"Of course. After all, I'm Kirche the Ardent. The ardent of gently smoldering passion. Everywhere I go, I have boys falling for me. Unlike you, right? Zero-chested louise?"

Kirche puffed her chest out proudly. Not wanting to lose, mistress did the same, but the difference in volume was just too striking.

"I don't have the time to go around flirting with everything I see, unlike you."

Of course, mistress' response is only serve to (pardon the pun) fueling the fire. Now Kirche's gleam of smugness is even brighter than before.

Wait, Zero-chested?

"Excuse me, ma'am, but is 'Flame' the name of your salamander?"

"Of Course! Pretty tight fit for a Fire Lizard, don't you think? It took me just about 10 minutes after summoning to come up with that."

Then this woman just officially won Uriel's recognition of being the most uncreative name giver ever. Bet if she would ever have a pet goldfish, she would name it 'Fishy'. Or worse, 'Swimmy'. Or maybe even 'Goldy'.

"By the way, what's your name, Familiar?" she turned to face me.

"Uriel, Ma'am."

"Just that? No surname?"

"Yes."

"Hmph. Typical for a commoner."

Yup, no elves here. just your usual, pathetic commoner.

"Well then, I'll be off now. Goodbye, mister beardy face!"

She stroked her flaming red hair back and dashed off. The salamander followed her with a cute shuffling movement that looked odd with such a large creature.

And as I said, Most. Uncreative. Name. Giver. EVER.

As she disappeared, mistress shook a fist in her direction.

"Ooh, that girl gets on my nerves! Just because she summoned a salamander from the Fire Dragon Mountains! Argh!"

Then what am I? A soddin' chopped liver?

"True, mistress. What she got is only a mere beast. What you got is _me._ And believe _me_, when I say that there is nothing mere about _me_. As you said last night, you can determine a mage's true power just by looking at his/her familiar."

This seems to have calmed down her a bit.

"Yes…yes. the fact that I managed to summon a Familiar at all, let alone to bind an Elf Archmage like you..."

Please don't use the word 'bind' mistress. I feel trapped.

"Hey…that reminds me…you are capable of detecting magic affinity, right?" mistress suddenly sounds ecstatic.

"Not just affinity, mistress, I can detect combat potential and hostility level just as easily."

"Then detect me."

"Excuse me?"

"Detect me. What is my magic affinity?"

"Ah, of course mistress. Why don't think of that earlier? Please stand a few steps back."

As she took a three steps back, I concentrate on my dragon shout. Well, more like whisper, actually.

_Laas Yah Nir_

And what appeared before me is the most beautiful sight, ever.

Her aura wasn't any color I know, but it's also being every color I know all at once. Truly you must see it to have a chance to comprehend it. Louise's entire body is glowing with perpetual light that almost rival the sun, instead of just a dim glow I always see every time I use Aura Whisper on somebody.

Mistress, you are the most grandiose view ever to grace my eyes.

"Excuse me?"

Oh, did I say that out loud?

"Err…yes, sorry miss. But I have no idea what your affinity is."

"Oh…"

Oh, come on, don't give me that sad look…

"Ah, But don't worry, mistress! You DO have an affinity, that I'm sure. Pretty strong one too."

"How can you know that I have an affinity but don't know what it is?"

"Because I never see something like you before. Are you sure you are not a fallen goddess with amnesia?"

Mistress Louise looks at me as if I'm mad. Granted, she's probably rights.

"Is that supposed to be a flattery?"

"No…it just that you never know with these things, right?"

Back in Skyrim, I can't go two miles without encountering a god of some sort.

"Anyway, what I said is that your affinity is alien. Your color doesn't match any bloodline I ever researched. So it can't be flame, wind, or water."

"So is it earth?"

"Pretty sure not…say, mistress, did you already tried to cast a simple magic from all different affinities?"

"Yes, all resulting in a small scale apocalypse. What's your point?"

"Hm…maybe you are an anomaly, a new bloodline with a completely new affinity?"

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"Does explosion count as affinity?"

"You know, you really starting to get under my skin."

"Sorry."

"Whatever. We'll sort this out later in our first class this night."

"Our…first class?"

"Yes. I got 'normal' classes all day long, so if you're going to teach me magic, it has to be at night."

"Eh? What about sleeps?" I don't need to sleep since I'm a half dragon. I can sleep, but I don't like it. Not since that contract with Hircine.

But sleeps is important for a growing girl, right? Mistress Valliere seems kind of short for…how old is she again? 8? 9?

"I'm sixteen! You stupid elf!"

Oh? Really?

"And only weaklings need more than four hours of sleep. Now let's go. Lest they eat all the smoked cheese."

And that is terrible.

* * *

OOC-ness, Louise have gun...yep, the author just stopped giving a shit.

Anyway, for the next chapter, did anyone noticed that the Dovahkiin have some epic cooking skills?


	4. Chapter 4

This fic already doesn't makes any sense. so i'll just going to ass shove some Mass effect (Bioware) in it.

* * *

**[City of Aurelin Holm, Skyrim-Cyrodiil Border]**

The quiet refreshing wind that blows over the prairie unfortunately can't be felt by the armored skins of Housecarl Lydia the Breaker.

The Dawnbreaker, her mighty sword of light, is sleeping in its sheath after another hard day work.

The irony smell (Got it? Because blood taste of iron.) Of the blood soaked battlefield is seeping between the fabrics of her yellow cape that bears the Horse of Whiterun, the flag of the hold of which she serve under.

The dim light of Skyrim's sunset reflected on the white of her armor made from the bone of her fallen foe, serve as another factor to makes the sight of this particular warrior even more magnificent.

With the flick of her wrist, she undoes the enchantment of the impenetrable barrier that is her shield, The Spellbreaker.

Another victory against the Thalmor scums.

She tries to walk, but with her every steps, she can hears the sound of Elven bones cracked under the weight of her heavy dragon bone boots.

Everywhere her gaze upon, the sight of Thalmor corpses in various state of undress after their armor got looted for their precious moonstones can be seen.

_Heh, 'superior race' my arse._

Another series of the sounds of cracked bones wakes her from her musing.

"Housecarl Lydia, there you are."

Another warrior woman, this one wears spiky armor, as black as night, but with an ore vein running across it that as red as fresh blood. Her red cape bears proudly of her hold's insignia, The Wolf of Solitude.

"Housecarl Jordis." Lydia gives a greeting from the top of a small hill of corpses. Her right fist on her left shoulder, and then she bows.

"What is it?" ask the mighty warrior politely.

"Our looters have found something in the tent of one of the Thalmor priest. They want us to take a look at it."

Unlike Lydia, the Housecarl in red cape seems to be more relaxed, with one hand resting on the hilt of her holstered weapon, the legendary katana, The Dragonbane.

And she carries her Daedric shield as one would carries a sack of apple.

"What did they found?" asks Lydia.

"A chest of some sort. It's heavily enchanted with locking spell. Master Destructor J'zargo from the College of Winterhold is working on it now."

"If it's locked, then it's must be of some value."

"It is most likely." Nod Jordis.

"Then indeed we shall take a look at it. Lead the way."

"Very well. This way, please."

Jordis starts to walks away. Lydia tries to follow, only to slip on someone's spilled spleen.

"Damnation." Curses Lydia.

"Be careful. Those are everywhere…"

_CRUNCH!_

"…Oh, Forsooth."

"Brain matters. That would be hard to clean up."

Jordis shook her left foot a bit, trying to get as much of Thalmor brain matters away from her boot.

"Eh, I planned to redecorate my armor, anyway."

And with that, they continue on their way.

"I managed to pacify their western defense quite smoothly. How about the east side?" asks Lydia to the younger of the two, trying to engage in a small friendly conversation along the way.

"They tried to use a ballista on me. Nothing this Daedric steel couldn't handle, though." Answered Jordis, waving her fifteen pound shield like it was made from _papier__-__mâché._

"You up for some friendly sparring after this?" asks Jordis.

"Nah, I have enough blood and sweat on my body as it is. I'll race you to the hot spring, though."

"Magnificent. I'll take Shadowmere."

"Then I shall take Arvak."

Silence for a moment, as the two of the five finest warriors of Tamriel walks among their fellow alliance soldiers busily looting and pillaging in their dark blue scale armor.

"Anyway, don't you think this is sort of overkill? Along with three hundreds of men, they sent _two_ of us against a mere thirty thousand Thalmor Justicars." Asks the knight in Daedric armor to the knight in dragonplates.

"This city wasn't in the original plan. Perhaps Colonel Scorcher Max Fighmaster originally just wants to send our Thane with small contingent of men, and just continues on our way to Cyrodiil?"

"Ha! Our Thane won't needs 'men', if he can solo Markath…oh…"

Their track stops as they remember the fate of the foul city.

Lydia then claps her hand as if in prayer.

"And may it be the stench of the damned cities serve as a reminder of what happens to the fools that cross the path of our mighty Thane, for he is merciless to the people who wronged him."

The second phrase is then said by Jordis:

"And may the screams of thousands corrupt Guardsmen, cheats, and liars, and the putrid smell of their corpses, be for eternity. And may this mistake not be repeated. The mistake that is the city of Markath and Riften."

"So shall it be, sister." Said Lydia, closing the prayer.

They then continue their walk until they reach a big purple tent with elaborate decoration of golden threads embroidery.

"Well, this tent certainly symbolize perfectly of the Thalmor's bigotry." Quip Jordis with a little smirk that unfortunately can't be seen from under her helmet.

When they are going inside the tent, they're quickly being approached by two Dremora lords. Two burly men with red face and demonic horns, wearing an exact copy of Jordis's armor. (Which actually a part of their biology. so even if you kill them, you can't loot it.)

"Our master is working. None shall pass." Say one of them in unnaturally deep voice.

"And if you are not noticing, I'm wearing an armor forged with the still-beatings heart of one of your felled brethren."

Hearing Jordis's threat, the Dremoras manages to keep their expression as stoic as always. Although a perceptive person might be able to see a glimpse of fear in their eyes.

"You…shall not pass." Repeats the Dremora Lord, though not with the same level of aggressiveness.

Just as Lydia fears for a battle to commence, a sly voice special to the Khajiit race of Elsweyr interjected.

"It is fine. J'zargo has finished. They may pass."

And with that simple sentence, the Dremoras parted, open a way for the Housecarl to a certain figure.

A figure, covered from head to toe in finest ebony steel. The Daedric staff that bound the two Dremora Lords fixed solidly in a holder on his back, like a giant rose ornament. And hanging from the left of his belt, where the scream of thousand damned souls can be heard from the Soul Cairn itself, is the dreaded Daedric artifact, Azura's Black Star.

And that cute fluffy black and white stripped tail that protruding from his back ends really looks contrast to the generally scary image his Ebony armor set gives.

"Hello there, kitten, any luck with the chest?" asks Jordis with maybe a little too much 'childish' in her voice.

"J'zargo does not appreciates of being called 'kitten', and yes, J'zargo has succeeded in removing all enchantments from the chest…"

He makes a gesture noticing a small wooden chest on a ground in the back of the tent.

"….all that's left is the lock, J'zargo concludes."

"Very well."

Lydia starts to walks toward the chest.

_CREAAAKK!_

No mere locks can stand against the power of the strongest of the Five Housecarls of the Apocalypse.

"Hm…Peculiar."

"What? What is it?"

Jordis sound like a child waiting for her gift.

"It's a ring."

"Huh?"

It is indeed a ring. A small, plain metal ring. Only with a small blue ruby on it.

"A ring? J'zargo does not understand."

"Let ma take a look at it." Jordis reached out and takes the ring from Lydia.

"Hmm…maybe…If I press here…hey! This ruby is a button!"

"Huh? Wait! Don't push it!"

Alas, it is too late. Jordis has pushed the button of a mysterious ring. Which everyone with half a brain knows, usually not a good idea. That kind of story always ends up in a volcano or something.

The ruby on the ring now glows, brighter and brighter until it creates a dim curtain of light not unlike that of an aurora. And from that curtain, came forth a blue spectral woman.

With tentacles for hair.

The two Dremora Lords readied their weapon, but J'zargo raises his hand, and their greatswords is back to their sheath.

"By the twin moon! An astral projection? A psychic recording? J'zargo is curious!"

"Oh, here we go again…" Lydia facepalmed.

The image of the woman with tentacle hair is now floating quietly a few feet from the ground, her eyes scanning the room, until it stop when she sees J'zargo.

And for quite a time, J'zargo seems to be in trance, as he locking gaze with the strange blue woman.

Suddenly, the woman talks. The voice comes from nowhere, yet everywhere. Like it comes from onside of your own head. And it is neither the voice of a man, nor woman.

_Are you people understand of what I am saying?_

Jordis was the first to respond.

"Err…yes?"

The spectral woman seems to be satisfied.

_Good. My name is Glyph, Cortana class artificial intelligence based on the intelligence of doctor Liara T'soni, and I brought forth a crucial message from ancient time. _

"Of course you are." Snark Lydia.

"Artificial intelligence? A construct? Crucial message? J'zargo would like to know."

_What I'm about to show you are vital to the survival of all sentient races…_

"Yeah yeah, just show us the message. Let get this one over with." Said Lydia with half of commanding tone.

_Very well, you impatient meatbag._

"What?"

_Nothing._

Before Lydia can thinks of something for a comeback, a series of image is burned into her head.

Images of an army of giant steel squid, bigger than most castles.

An image of war, in a scale incomprehensible.

And a lot more.

The information flow is just overwhelming, but Lydia stands strong.

Most of the images are unclear, but Lydia get the point clearly.

And army of god-like octopus is going to end the world as we know it.

"Housecarl Jordis, you're seing this?"

She can hears Jordis chuckling nervously before answered.

"Yes. Huh, this one is bigger than the usual cosmic horror trying to ends the world."

"You mean there's an army of them now." Add J'zargo.

"Yeah."

_What did you saw is the image of the Reapers, a machine race with sole drive for extinction of all sentient races every fifty thousand years._

"Fifty thousand years, huh? How much do we got?" asks Jordis.

_Calculating, please wait._

Two seconds later…

_Thirty years, eleven months, and exactly two weeks._

"Hey, that's pretty long, unlike the usual."

"Alright, so how do we stop this reapers?" ask Lydia straight to the point, conforming to her Thane's standard procedure for dealing with imminent doom.

_We tried to fight them off once. Needless to say, we've lost._

"That is obvious."

_But that only because we overlooked what is right in front of us. A series of powerful artifacts, buried under the crust of planet Earth._

"Planet? Plane? A plane traveler? Hmm…, curious. J'zargo is interested."

"Shut up, J'zargo. I need to listen to her."

"J'zargo would gladly stay quiet if Housecarl Jordis would be kindly to stop playing with J'zargo's tail."

"Jordis, stop playing with his tail."

"Sorry. I got nervous. And his tail is just _so fluffy!_"

J'zargo sighed.

"Very well, J'zargo would let the creepy woman the honor of touching his tail. But only for this instance."

"Yay!" squeal Jordis with gleefulness unbefitting of someone wearing a full Daedric armor.

"Dibella's cunt…sorry about that, you may continue. What were these artifacts you were talking about?"

_A series of artifact, known to the locals as the 'Seven Pieces of Eden'. It is said that if one to brings all seven of them to a temple on earth, the world would be saved._

"'It is Said'?"

_It has not been confirmed as a fact, but we do know that the prophecy belongs to a very advanced and ancient alien civilization called, in your tongue, as the 'Elder Farseer'._

"Is she mayhaps, talking about an Elder Scroll?"

Jordis is still stroking J'zargo's tail.

"It is perhaps. But, since that our only lead, say, Glyph, may you tell us of how we acquire this 'Seven Pieces of Eden'?"

_To avoid the Reaper forces, we use the Leviathan's thralls to retrieve all of the seven pieces and hide it in the remote planet of HQ1112. this planet._

The image of the woman suddenly getting brighter.

_Activating scanner…searching for beacons… Analyzing planet's physiology…compiling map…map compiled._

The image of the woman suddenly turned into a huge world map. Like a floating paper, but glowing blue, and has a perfect edges. It is filled with depiction of land unknown.

In that map, there's about seven of blinking white dot, probably the positions of the Pieces of Eden.

"J'zargo, take note of these coordinates."

"Understood. The creepy Housecarl can let go of J'zargo's tail now."

"Awww."

From the desk on the other side of the tent, J'zargo retrieves a paper and a piece of charcoal, and with Khajiit's agility a normal human can only dream of, start copying on the spectral map.

But the spectral map shimmers…

_Power level critical. Shutting down._

…and then gone.

"It seems like she's out of power." Said Jordis, stating the obvious as she tries to press the ring's button over and over.

"Here, try soul gem."

Lydia throws two medium soul gems from her side pocket.

Jordis catches it, and put the two soul gems and the ring on her right palm, and squeeze a little.

"No effect."

"Squeeze harder."

"I'll break it."

"Damnation. J'zargo, how much did you got?"

"Only five; one in Morrowind, one in Hammerfell, and three on the next continent."

"Another continent? Oh, great. Alright, J'zargo, makes a few copies of what you got, send it to Calder and Iona with a simple note of what to do. They'll understand. And send an order to Argis to find our Thane, he'll want to know of this."

"Understood" J'zargo then continues to copying maps.

"What about us?" ask Jordis.

Lydia responded by throwing two enchanted daggers at her. One glowing blue, and one glowing red.

"Summon Arvak and Shadowmere. We're off for a little trip. **SET COURSE TO HIGH HROTHGAR."**

* * *

Still makes much more sense than the ending of MASS EFFECT 3. come on, bioware, that control ending is the perfect chance to hear shepard sayin 'assuming direct control'.

and yes, i killed the entirety of markath. damn dude try to frame me, so he got to frame that ice spike up his arse.


	5. Chapter 5

I'm somewhat sober this time.

By the way, my Dovahkiin alignment/karma has somehow reached 'chaotic stupid'.

* * *

The dining hall of the Tristain Academy of Magic is huge. Like, absurd huge.

The ceiling is really high, as if to compensate for the five equally absurdly massive banners hanging from it. Each with different color.

At the left side of the hall, near the main door, there is brown banner with stylized mole symbol embroidered on it with pure black threads.

A little bit further, a White banner with stylized grey dragon posed as if it's about to strike on the students below.

At the right side of the hall, opposite of the brown banner, there's a bright red banner with golden salamander.

Next to it, there is dark blue banner, with a pure white crystal symbol at the middle that seems to glow slightly under the morning light that comes from six gargantuan arched windows situated around the hall.

Right above the upper level, where I could see people who I assume are the teachers enjoying some pleasant chatters, I saw an olive banner, larger than the others, proudly bearing the golden pentagon that is the symbol of Tristain Academy of Magic.

Three extremely long tables were arranged parallel to each other. Each one looked like it could easily seat a hundred people.

The table at which Louise and all the second years sat was the middle table.

"Most…exquisite." Said I in amazement of the grandeur of this hall.

All the tables were magnificently decorated.

Numerous candles, bunches of flowers, baskets full of fruit...

"Welcome, to the Hall of Alviss." Says Louise with a hint of pride in her voice.

"Tristain Academy of Magic doesn't teach just magic, you know."

"Right..."

"Almost all mages here are nobles. The saying 'nobles achieve nobility through the use of magic' is a foundation for the education we receive as nobles. Thus, our dining halls must also be fitting of a noble's status."

If their status is as high as the ceiling of this damn hall, I dare to bet that most nobles are smug basterd.

"By the way, who's Alviss?

"It's the name for the little people. See all those statues over there?"

Where she pointed, lined along the walls were elaborate sculptures of small people. They eerily remind me of the sentry guardian of a dwemer ruin.

"They're well-made. Err, those things don't... like... come alive during the night or anything, do they?"

"Oh, you knew that?"

"So they do?"

Hmm…maybe…hmm…yes, they look pretty short. Bet I can take them on with only my fist.

"Well, they dance." Said mistress Valliere.

"…"

Alright, now I'm convinced that the world is just trying to screw with me.

"Why?"

"Hmm?"

"Why exactly are they dancing? Did your people enjoy the sight of short people shaking their hips or something?"

"W…What? No! Well…maybe…they are pretty funny."

Then I congratulate whoever designed this castle for being totally batshit insane.

"Anyway, enough of this! Either take a seat, or sat on the floor. your choice."

"I prefer the floor, thank you very much."

Mistress gave me a confused look. Then shrugged.

"Whatever. Do whatever you want."

What I want? I want to take a bath, dammit!

Mistress muttered something under her breath, inaudible for human ear, but these ears ain't called 'knife ears' just for the pointy-ness.

'_Elf, I can't understand them.'_

Hmph.

For anyone wondering why I prefer the floor, it's because the table is too packed. I would have a hard time getting in and out without falling on my back, especially because as an Altmer, my stature is much taller than that of average human (of which the tables are designed for). By sitting on the floor, I can quickly stand up and take a battle stance. Maybe this sound way too paranoid for you, but things happen, you know. (Try doing a mid-air fighting with a wind dragon two thousand miles above sea level without your pants on, and suddenly you're become as paranoid as me.)

_**Oh, Great Founder Brimir, and our lady, the Queen, we thank you for this humble meal that you have graciously provided us this morning,**_

The harmonious sound of a prayer sounded. Mistress joined in as well, closing her eyes.

Oh? Is this another culture that thinks their monarch is a deity?

Maybe I should pray too. Not to the queen, of course, but to the King of Time himself.

I closed my eyes and started to pray.

_Dear father Akatosh, This is your youngest son, Dovahkiin. How are you? Well, I know you are exhausted to the point that you are barely existing at all, but you get my point._

_Brother Odahviing and brother Paarthurnax are doing well. They still bickering a lot, scaring the villagers here and there when they have their 'verbal debate', but they are getting better._

_I'm doing fine myself. Need to took care some potentially deadly stuffs here and there, but I'm getting better at that too._

_I'm sorry about brother Alduin. But I won't let this world that you have created with The Eight to be simply replaced like it doesn't even matter. This world is too significant to me, and I would go as far to kill my elder brother to defend it. And I did. No regrets. _

_By the way, you won't believe what happened yesterday. I am now a Familiar. I know, I know, dragon are free being, follow no master, go with the wind, yadda yadda yadda…but I find my new master… interesting. _

_I have a hard time remembering her name, Louise something something Valliere or something. Why she can't have a more normal sounding name, like Shattershield, is beyond my comprehension._

_She has ambition, father, I can feel it! an ambition for power that is so big, I think it's even rivaled a dragon! _

…_._

_Alright, alright. I admit. I pity her._

_The thing is, she's of a noble birth, and in the region I've been summoned to, Nobility means bloodline magic. It's a literal application of the term 'Royal Blood'. I know, pretty stupid, eh? But that what it is._

_And mistress Valliere can't use magic._

_I worried that she might lose her noble status, or worse, becoming a street whore or something like that. That's why I offered to teach her some magic._

_Maybe you think that I'm too good for my own good (My, I love alliteration), but you know me. I do whatever the sod I wanted to do, and I want to be a good person. Err…relatively. _

_So, anyway, I'm in another continent now, called Halkeginia. I'm hoping you and uncle Talos would provide guidance for me on this new journey like you guys did back in Tamriel. Skyrim is batshit insane, and I can't wait to see what new kind of insanity this place has to offer. _

_And…that's it. I'm finished. Have a good rest, father. I invented a new kind of bread last week, it tasted pretty good, and I can't wait to eat another serving. Goodbye!_

Ah, yes. You'll know you are a demigod when your prayer sounds like a family letter.

When I opened my eyes, I see that mistress is already at her second helping of Foie Gras, or whatever that thing is. It looks like a Foie Gras for me.

That's good. She needs to eat more. She's waaay too short to be sixteen years old.

I want to eat too. Though I'm not hungry yet. being a half-dragon, my metabolism is much better than normal elf. I can even go six weeks without food.

But heck, my bread is delicious.

That said, I pulled out a big lump of sweet bread from my riding bag. This is a new kind of sweet bread I invented last week. Not in the kitchen, but in alchemy lab. (You'll never know what you can come out with while researching immortality.)

It is made from enriched dough covered in a thin layer of crisp cookie dough. Its surface has a lot of ridges, like that of a cantaloupe.

So, naturally, my students calls it 'Melon Bread', or 'Melon Buns', even tough I never put any kind of melon in the recipe.

I heat up the bread using a subtle flame spell, just hot enough to make my palm as hot as an oven. If anyone asked how I can keep a three days old bread to stay warm, I'll just say that I'm using a nearby fireplace.

The sweet aroma of it quickly rose to meet my sensitive dragon sense.

Ah…perfect.

I'm just about to take a bite while I notice a pair of huge, dull blue eyes in front of me, staring hungrily at me at an uncomfortably close proximity.

"Umm…Alma?" her long aquamarine hair are tied in twintails today, using a simple, thin fiber rope that seems to have been painted by hand with every colors of a rainbow. It looks really out of place with the black and white servant uniform she's wearing.

"Mister dragon." Her voice is as sweet as ever. Like children's innocence.

"Yes, Alma? Can you back down a little? This is quite…uncomfortable."

I was sitting on the floor, and she is now standing on all four like a dog, with a face so close to me, it could be misinterpreted. Sexually.

She _does_ backed down, tough she's still on all four.

"What is that?" she asked me, pointing at my bread, all the while sounds really, really hungry.

Oh, she wants my bun?

"This is called 'Melon bread'. I invented it." I answered truthfully.

"Melon Bread…" now I can see a hint of saliva dropping from the corner of her mouth.

"Umm…yes. You want some?" I split the bun in half and offer one part to her.

"Oh, Founder! Yes!" Alma screams in delight and the forcefully grabbed the piece of bread in my left hand with all the gracefulness of a Bronto, and her squeal has succeeded at attracting a somewhat unwanted attention from the nobles around us. Mistress Valliere included. (Words such as 'indiscreet' and 'inappropriate' were bandied about. And few things in the line of 'as expected of zero's familiar.)

"What are you doing?" said mistress with demanding tone.

"Just sharing food, mistress. Want some?" I split my half-bun into a quarter.

"No! and why is she on her knees like that? That is disgusting!"

Alma doesn't seems too mind. She's too busy eating.

"I don't know, mistress. Maybe she feels comfortable like that. Anyway, you sure you don't want some? This bread is really sweet. I just invented it last week so you are probably one of the first people to taste it."

"As I said, no! and stand up, servant! You are *sniff* creating a *sniff*…"

I hold out a warm piece of melon bread near mistress' nose.

"*sniff* What are you…*sniff* oh, fine!"

She forcefully grabbed my bread in her tiny little hand, and take a bite using her tiny, little cute mouth.

She chewed a little, with a gracefulness befitting a noble (not), and then swallowed.

"How is it taste?" I asked.

"It's… delicious." She simply say. Her anger suddenly vanished.

Oh, is it really that good?

"Do you have more of this?" she asked.

"Er… Sadly, no."

"oh…" my answer seems to disappoint mistress greatly.

"But…you said you invented it…that means you can make more of it, right?"

"Well, if I'm allowed to use the oven."

Hearing this, she suddenly took a commanding posture. Good thing that I'm sitting and she's standing, else that gesture just would looks really awkward due to height difference.

"Th…then, as your mistress, I order you…"

Ah, a new order. And I have good feeling this is not an order that involve dragon-slaying.

"…from now on, every morning, you will prepare this…this…"

"Er…Melon Bread?"

"Yes! This…melon bread. As your mistress, I order you to prepare it every morning for breakfast! You shall be given full access to the kitchen as my personal chef!"

Whoa. Why such a vigor for just a piece of bread?

"Personal chef..? Well, I _am_ a gourmet, actually…"

"EH? You are a gourmet, mister dragon? Then my spouse would love meeting you! She such a good cook, too!"

That was Alma butting in just now, by the way, having just finished her bread. I can see some bread crumbs around her mouth, which she quickly licks with her tongue. Cute.

"Oh? You're married, Alma?"

Wait, 'she'?

"Oh, she won't accept it yet, but I WILL make her my spouse!" answered Alma with the enthusiasm of a full blown rapist.

Ugh. I probably don't want to know more than this.

"Hey! Don't ignore me!" said Louise angrily.

"*sigh* fine, mistress. I'll cook for you. Gladly. But is it really that good of a food?"

"Huh?"

"My melon bread, is it really that good of a food, that you would choose it over this grand feast…" I pointed at the table full of exotic food. "…every morning?"

Mistress' cheeks suddenly turned slightly red. Either from embarrassment, or anger. Tough I don't see a reason of why she is embarrassed. So she must be angry. At something.

"Wha…don't get too much ahead of yourself! It's just…unique! That's it! It's just taste unique!"

"Right…"

"And it is just for a side dish!"

"Oh, you mean like an appetizer?"

"Y…Yes! Like that! _Hors d'oeuvre!_" Horse what?

"Err…right. If you want an appetizer, I guess I can prepare some Obložené chlebíčky for you. Or maybe a portion of Spanakopita. "

Now it's mistress' turn to get confused.

"I…can't even pronounce that. Anyway, no, just your melon bread is fine."

Wow, if I thought mistress is strange before, now she wants _bread_ for an appetizer. Just, wow. No wonder she's so heavy!

BONK! And then I took a boot to the face.

"H…how dare you comment on a lady's weight! Have some decency!"

"As you wish, mistress. Anyway…" I stand up and dust myself. And my face. "If I'm going to be your chef, guess I would need to learn some about local ingredients. Is there any library here?"

"Yes, at the second floor of this tower." Inform mistress, with a face that is flustered red.

Ukh, I made her angry. Again. She wasn't even looking at me when she answered my question.

Oh, come on, don't be that angry, you're not even _that _heavy.

BLAM! And then I took a fist to the guts.

"You know, you really should learn to keep your thought to yourself."

"Yes, Mistress."

For such a small body, mistress is unusually strong. That punch there feels like a tiny compressed ball of hurt! Painful! Someone, give her a mace or something!

Wait! Bad idea! Don't give her a mace! I'll die!

"Umm…so…"

Oh? Almost forgot, Alma is still here, watching intently as I bickering with mistress.

"If you excuse me mistress, I will inform the kitchen that we're going to receive a new chef."

Alma bowed at Louise. Wow, this girl can be surprisingly polite.

"Right, off you go." Dismiss mistress Valliere, with the politeness of charging mammoth.

Alma bowed once more to me. And then took her leave. Her twintails waving in the air like a twin snake trying to eat each other.

She turned around to give me one last farewell before disappearing amongst the other servants busily bringing a seemingly endless stream of food to the table.

"Goodbye, mister dragon! I'll see you tomorrow at the kitchen!"

"Right."

Omnomnom. I finally get to eat that quarter of a bread I've been holding in my hand, like, forever.

"Why is she calling you 'mister dragon'?" asked the little Pinkette standing beside me.

"eh?"

"That servant, she's calling you 'mister dragon'. Are you two close or something? Is that her nickname for you?"

"Mistress, I just came here last afternoon. And no, that is not a nickname, I _am_ a dragon."

"Right, and I am a void mage." Said mistress with a sarcastic tone.

It is to be expected. No one ever believe it at first when I said that I'm a half dragon, until I summoned a storm with a Dragonshout. And even tough the concept of 'FUS RO DA' meets a table full of food is hilarious, I think it would be unwise to do it here just to prove my point. How unwise? Try 'risking an on-site execution' unwise.

Well, they would _try_ to execute me, anyway. Last time someone tried to execute me, _the soddin' apocalypse_ happened. Poor Helgen, never stood a chance.

You know what? The prospect of me being an elf in an elf-hating community and the end of the world is just depressing. Let's change the subject, shall we?

"What's a 'Void Mage'?" I asked.

"Eh, you don't know?"

She turned to face me, with a face that implied that she is now facing the world's dumbest person. Then she realized that I'm from another country with totally different culture.

"Very well, then! As your mistress, it is my obligation to explain. Now, listen well!"

She then put on her smug face, and used that body language teacher uses when they're about to give a lecture. Finger pointing upwards and all.

"The lost element of the void. It is the magical affinity of the Great Founder Brimir…" she started to explaining, but I raise my hand to stop her.

"You know what, mistress? I think I'll just go to the library for more explanation."

"Wha…you can't just asks someone to explain something just to stop them when they actually start explaining! That's rude!"

"Well, as much as I like you to explain everything to me, Mistress, I'm afraid we have no time for that. I think the class is about to get started. "

I make a gesture noticing the now almost empty dining hall. It happens that we have taken more time for random bickering than initially realized.

"Oh, no! I still haven't finished my meal!"

And…there she dashed off on her cute, little frail legs, trying to put as much food in her mouth before dashing out of the hall.

Mate, ain't she the cutest thing ever?

* * *

Next chapter: the Dovahkiin kicks Montmorency in the face.


	6. Chapter 6

Self Advertisement: I made AMV on Youtube titled 'Misaka Mikoto VS Cole Macgrath, just so you know.

My Dovahkiin looks like Adam Jensen's retarded twin brother, but since sunglasses haven't been invented yet, I made his eyes black.

For anyone wondering why Louise is so relaxed with a being that she knows can kill him with a twitch of a finger, to the point of being abusive, well, if you haven't noticed it yet (Note: the gun.) she's not Canon!Louise. my Louise got introduced to the concept of 'firearms' waaay earlier than in canon, by someone completely different. And thus, she's now a badass.

How badass? Read this sentence:

'Louise throws a grenade into a bar, kills fifty people, then the grenade explode.'

In a few chapter, that sentence would be _believable_.

* * *

I though I've seen everything.

Amongst my line of work, I have seen a lot of crazy bits and blobs this world has to offer.

I've seen and killed an evil dragon undead sorceress when I was still but an apprentice.

I have traveled to the world of the dead and back.

I've seen horse made of darkness defy law of physic and climbs a nearly vertical surface with ease.

I killed a god.

I play chess with Sheogorath regularly.

But absolutely none, none of that can stop me from going HOLY SOD IT'S A GIANT EYEBALL WITH WINGS when I saw this one particular Familiar.

When I asked Mistress about this creature, she said its name is 'bugbear'. Wonder, it's doesn't looks like a bug, and definitely nowhere close to resembling a bear. I think whoever named it is just retarded.

What does that thing eat, anyway? The nightmares of toddler? Cheese? Psionic energy?

This part of the world surely has some _weird _creature in it. It's like they left the creature anatomy design to the same god that also designed nightmares. Or maybe Sheogorath. Apart from said eye creature, there's a lizard with six legs, amongst the more mundane Familiars like cats and raven and giant snake.

Tristain Academy of Magic is pretty big, a single class probably could contains about thirty people or so. It is designed somewhat like amphitheater, where the students seats is arranged in a slope resembling a stair, with a clearing at the lowest level that I guess where the teacher would stand.

I am now standing near the doorway, just another Familiar in a room full of Familiars and their masters. Well, not exactly, since I'm the only one that is humanoid.

I always think that the term 'humanoid' is pretty racist.

I scan the entirety of the classroom, and spy with my eyes a little ball of pink arguing with the red one.

My mistress is currently arguing with the fire girl we met before. Her Familiar, Flame, is sleeping near her legs. (Btw, if it was me, I'm going to name it Blaze, or Scorcher, or anything else other than 'Flame'. Even 'Mr. Fooblyshuttlecocker' is still a better name than 'Flame'.)

My little mistress is clearly in the losing end of the conversation, partly because Kirche has the support of a group of boy admirers that sit around her, throwing continuous insults at my poor, little mistress.

It is amazing what a well endowed chest could do to the malekind. If I have breasts like her, I'm pretty sure I would be able to conquer half of Tamriel.

"…"

Cock, now I won't be able to banish that image from my head for at least another day.

The chatter in the class suddenly dies down as whom I assume is the teacher comes in.

And my first impression of him when he passed me at the doorway, I joke you not, is 'Lo and behold, an arsehole hath come forth.'.

He's sporting long, jet black hair, and wearing a pitch black cape. He is pretty young for a human, somewhere about twenty five, I guess. But already his every move states 'I'm better than thou.'

When he reached the clearing at the lowest level, he turned to face the class.

"Let's start the class. As everyone knows, my runic name is 'gust'. Kaita the Gust." He was enveloped with shocked stares from the students. Maybe he's a pretty famous mage and that name actually means something?

Satisfied by the faces of awestruck students, he continued.

"Do you know what the most powerful element is, Zerbst?" he asks to Kirche, the uncreative flame girl.

"Isn't that the 'Void' element?" answered Kirche.

I made a mental note to do deep research on this 'void' thing. It's have been comes out often lately. The spectral assassin used to say that he and I are bonded together by the power of The Void. Maybe it's connected.

Kirche's answer sounds pretty legit for me, but Kaita just handwave it.

"I'm not asking for something of the legends. I want something realistic." If his movement has the 'holier than thou' statement, his voice clearly has the 'please punch my nasal bone into my cranium' statement.

"Then it has to be the fire element, Professor Kaita," answered Kirche confidently, along with her irresistible smile.

And of course I know that a 'fire' mage would say that…

"Oh? Why do you think that?"

…just as much as I know that Kaita would say that wind element is the best.

"Heat and passion can burn anything and everything, isn't that so?"

"I'm afraid that is not so." Kaita said as he pulled out his wand from his waist. "Let's give that a try. Attack me with your best fire elemental attack."

Kirche stood still in surprise. Ah, yes. I still remembered when my former master said that he's going to throw fire at me to test my warding skill. I think my face was exactly like Kirche's now.

"What is it? I recall that you work best with fire elemental spells, am I right?" Kaita challenged.

"It won't be a simple scald." Kirche winked.

"No problem. Give me your best shot. Don't tell me the flaming red hair of the Zerbst family is there just for looks?"

Ah, so the Zerbst family is famous for their fire elementalist?

Now _that _seems to hit Kirche's sweet spot (and yes I do aware of how that sentence can be interpreted sexually). Kirche's usual brisk smile disappeared. She retrieved her wand from her cleavage (?), her fiery, crimson long hair stood on their ends and crackled as if flames were erupting from them (emphatic hair?). She waved her wand, and from her extended right hand appeared a small fireball. As Kirche chanted her spell (I'm taking notes of it), the fireball expanded, resulting in a huge flaming sphere of a meter in diameter (thanks the divines that this room is mostly stones). The students, including mistress, ducked under their desks in panic (except mistress. She seems to be more annoyed than scared). Her wrist turned and spiraled towards her chest, and released the fireball.

Kaita made no attempt to dodge the giant sphere of fire heading towards him. He raised his wand, and made sweeping waves as if swinging a sword. A raging gale suddenly began, and instantly scattered the huge fireball. It even knocked down Kirche, who was standing on the far other side of the room.

Awesome.

"Everyone, I now tell you why the wind element is the strongest…"

I knew it.

"It is quite easy. Wind can sweep up everything. Fire, water, and dirt alike cannot find footing when faced against strong enough winds." Kaita briskly announced.

**Uriel rule of survival #33: always have a plan to kill anything you met.**

If I was Kirche, I would start with small subtle 'Incinerate' spell to burn that pompous looking robe, disturbing his concentration. Then I will finish him with the big one.

Anyway, that was a pretty good reasoning.

Kaita continues his lecture.

"Unfortunately, reality does not let me experiment this, but even Void would probably not stand. That is the wind element."

Seriously, what is it with this 'void' thing? Everyone keeps talking about it. I feel left out.

Kirche stood, displeased, and locked her arms. Kaita paid her no attention, and continued. "The unseen wind shall be the shield that protects everyone, and if needed, the lance that scatters enemies. And one more reason that wind is the most powerful is..." He raised his wand, "YOBIKISUTA DERU WIND..." as he chanted his spell.

But he suddenly stopped just as I started musing of how ridiculous that incantation is going to sounds like. He suddenly focus his gaze on me, apparently just noticed my presence. How can that be? You passed right by me!

Mate, sometimes being a Nightingale with little to none aura of presence is helpful, but sometimes, it's annoying.

"Class is in session. Servant must stay outside." Said Kaita, raising his voice, clearly addressing me at the other side of the room.

I must stay outside? But what about the other Familiars? Oh, wait. He thinks I'm a normal servant?

Of course, since I'm a polite person, I decided to correct him.

"I am not a servant. I am the Familiar of mistress Valliere."

Maybe I said that with a little too much pride, since now all the students in the class are laughing at me, and causing Louise to rub her forehead as to say 'unbelievable'.

"Louise the Zero! Don't go around grabbing random commoners off the street just because you can't summon anything!" said a plump little boy with a voice that reminds me of a dying horse.

"Yes, bet she just hire a mercenary to pretend to be her Familiar!" said a fine lady with much more tolerable voice.

"No! I did everything properly! He was all that appeared!"

"Don't lie! I bet you couldn't even cast 'Summon Servant' properly, right?"

The rest of the students in the room burst into laughter.

Louise just about to lashes out at the nearest student before Kaita interjected.

"Silence! Only commoners laugh with such indecency! Nobles only hide their chuckle behind their palm even when they find something funny! Now, return to your seat! The class shall continue. But first…"

He pointed his index finger at me. Uh oh.

"Familiar, come here."

Did I get I found out? I check my hood. It was still on. In fact, the only part of my skin that isn't covered in clothing, beard, and darkness, is on my nose.

Slowly, I started to walk toward the teacher. Well, if I _did_ get found out, so be it. I'll just kill everyone.

*sigh* since when did 'kill everyone' being my top problem solving method? I'm not complaining, per se, because it works most of the time, but I feel like monster sometimes. Paarthurnax said that every dragon is violent in nature, with unquenchable desire to destroy, conquer, and basically being a massive jerkarse all around. Maybe this is my dragon half acting up? Who knows. The point is, killing everyone is almost always is what I'm going to do when something goes down the hill (figuratively).

"Familiar! Did you even listening to me?"

Oh?

While I'm being immersed in my own thoughts, apparently my legs have taken me straight in front of Kaita. Surprised, I jumped a few step back.

I am too close. At this range, if I did kill him, the blood stain would be unwashable.

"No need to be afraid, Familiar. I just needs to confirm something." Said Kaita, apparently mistaken my unwillingness to walk around in bloodstained clothes for fear.

"Show me your runes."

Well, I see no reason to refuse.

I take off my shrouded glove from my left hand, and show the rune that bound me to Louise.

Kaita grabbed my hand, somewhat violently, to check on my rune.

"Hmm…seems legit."

Satisfied, he let go of my hand.

"Where are you from, Familiar?"

Should I tell him about Skyrim? The land where the gods is at best apathetic, and at worst, downright sadistic? A land of which you can't survive without killing at least five people a day? A land where even the children can take fireball to the face without even flinching?

Nah, it would raise too much questions.

I'm just about to make up random awesome sounding name when Little Mistress got me covered.

"Professor Kaita…he told me yesterday that he's from Rub' al Khali in the east."

Is it just me, or that name sounds like a desert?

"Then why is he clothed like he's about to face an eternal winter?"

"Err…"

Eh, smooth, mistress. Really smooth.

"This is a costume for a play." I lied.

"A play? Are you an actor?"

"No. I'm the bard. I played the lute and narrate. We are just about to start the first part of 'Ragnar the Red' when suddenly there was a hole below my feet."

Did I ever tell you of how good I am at lying? Not even the sharpest sword can go against the true might of sheer bullshit.

"Is…is that so…" completely fooled, Kaita moves on to the next part of the interrogation. The students, unexpectedly, is actually being quiet and listening to our conversation instead of bickering amongst themselves. Now I know the feelings of an exotic pet from the 'far-off' land.

"So, do you have family, Familiar?"

"Err…no? why?"

"Nothing, just curious. Never saw a human Familiar before." Kaita suddenly looks relieved.

The realization dawned upon me.

What Little Mistress did, if you look at it at perspective, is actually just a magical equivalent of kidnapping and slavery. And if I indeed have a family, like, a single wife and two small children, Little Mistress is most likely just starve a whole family to death by taking away their economy backbone. Back in Skyrim, only Vampires use sentient creatures as Familiar, but Vampires are crazy, so they don't count.

Mate, isn't it interesting how everything can look so normal or even funny when you look at it in one way, but can look so outright depressing if you look at it another way? If I'm not the motherhumpin Dragonborn, I probably snapped out already. (Reading the Oghma Infinium for about five seconds a day, contrary to popular belief, is actually _helps_ building mental fortitude instead of degrading it. _Maybe_.)

When I got spaced out in my own thought, Kaita suddenly and roughly pulled my hood back. Fortunately, I still have my circlet and my hair to cover my pointy ear. One did not become an Archmage by being under prepared. (Actually strangely, the only thing that I can remember about when I become an Archmage is a giant blue ball.)

"What happened to your eyes, Familiar?"

Of course, I've prepared a lie for that, too.

"A birth defect, sir, been like that since I came out of my mother womb."

"Can you see?"

"Barely. Just enough to play my lute."

"I see. Err…no offense."

"None taken."

Whoa. He's actually pretty nice! Albeit arrogant. Maybe I don't have to kill him.

"You are excused, Familiar."

"Very well, sir." I started to walk back to my spot near the doorway.

"And Miss Valliere?"

"Yes, Professor?"

"Makes sure you get your Familiar a new set of clothes tomorrow, and give him a bath. He smells like a fermented pig sweat."

Wait. What?

I stopped and turned halfway through the stairs.

"Excuse me, sir, but I'm pretty sure I know how to bathe myself."

"Not of my concern."

Cocksmoker.

I resume my climb back to the upper level as Mistress confirm that she is, in fact, going to buy me new clothes. Along the way, I overhear the students conversation. Most fittingly, it's about me.

Ah, yes. People just _love_ to talk about me, aren't they?

'_Did you see that? Professor Kaita actually being nice to somebody!'_ said boy number one.

'_Forget nice! He almost treats him as an equal!' _respond boy number two.

'_Whoa, let's not go crazy here. He's just a Familiar. A blind one, too." _Comeback boy number one_._

'_Hey, I got an idea.' _Said a little blond girl with curly hair, sitting at the edge of the desk. _'Check this out.'_

She pulled out a cute little wand from beneath her cloak, and suddenly the stair piece in front of me are now goes dangerously slick as it is covered with thin layer of ice.

D'awww. Is the liddle water mage tries to pull a prank on me? How cute!

Shall I play along? Don't want to break a frail maiden heart now, am I?

When I stepped on the puddle of ice, I purposely let my foot slip off and dive to the stone stair face first. (And accidentally break a chunk of the pavement with my forehead. Hope they don't notice it.)

"Hey! You can't do that!"

As I lay helpless (not) at the stair, I can hear Mistress angry voice.

"Hm? And what exactly did I do?" asks the blond girl. It is most likely that the question asked are rhetorical.

"Don't play dumb with me, flood! You used your magic to trip him somehow! I saw your wand!"

Ah, right. That blond girl name is Montmorency, right?

Hhehehe, flood. That gets me every time. Flood. Flood. Floody flood.

But it is apparent that Montmorency doesn't take that nickname too well.

"Don't call me FLOOD! A fake mage like you is not even worthy calling my name!"

"Who did you called fake mage, you…!"

"YOU! You are a fake mage! You can't even admit that your Familiar is just a hapless blind commoner that can't even see his own feet!"

Ouch. Burns.

Mistress doesn't seems to have any good comebacks for that. Evident by the fact that she is now just stay there in silence, looking angrily at Montmorency.

"Ha! Can't even deny that one now, can you?"

Fortunately for Mistress, I got just the perfect comeback.

Alright, time to get up.

**[RENEGADE PROMPT]**

Whoops.

"HOLY BRIMIR'S BUTTCHEECKS!"

Cockblasted_._

"Language! Mister Malicorne!"

In the history of people rising from lying down position to standing up, that was probably _not_ the best example.

"What happened here? Oh FOUNDER!"

Professor Kaita climbs the set of stairs to where am I standing currently, and when he arrived, the horror on his face is priceless.

Laying somewhere near my foot, is Montmorency.

She's bleeding.

When I tried to get up from my fake fall, I ended up using to much thrust on my triceps and my foot is accidentally land upon her face. Somehow.

Yes, I really don't know how my foot ended up crushing her nasal bone and break her jaw and gave her concussion that seems so bad that she also has started bleeding from the ears. I really don't know.

"What. The fuck. _Did you do!"_

Oh, come on, Mistress. Such a harsh word is unworthy of your cute little mouth.

At least use 'cock'. That sounds more profound.

"Would you believe me if I said that was an accident?"

"An accident? You jump kicked her in the face with both legs at once!" lashes out another Blondie kneeling near Montmorency.

This school has surprising amount of Blondie. Maybe they are the dominant race here? Well, at least they aren't pink. Espionage would be a bitch.

By the way, it's not 'Jump Kick', it's 'Drop Kick'.

"A very unfortunate accident, then?" I tried to assure.

"You…"

The Blondie looks like he's about to go vayjayjay on me, but Montmorency held firm to his cloak…or is it her cloak? Is this particular Blondie a girl or a boy? Funny, I can't recognize the gender.

"Master Guiche…" stutter Montmorency, choking on her own blood. I wonder, maybe I kicked her too hard, not that I done it on purpose, mind you.

"Don't…leave me."

Guiche hurriedly kneeled back at Montmorency's side.

"I won't, my love." Said him/her in overly feminine/masculine voice.

You know what? This is confusing. I'll just going to refer to Guiche as female. For now, anyway.

So she and Montmorency we're lover? No wonder she's pissed that I kicked her in the face.

But it was an accident, though.

"Malicorne!" shouts Guiche, this time with proper authoritarian voice. While Kaita, the supposed authority, is frozen in shock, just like the rest of the classroom. Other than Guiche's shouting and Montmorency's faint (bloody) sobbing, the class is as silent as a nudist on the throat of the world.

Cockblasted_, _I forgot where that metaphor supposed to go.

Anyway, Malicorne is that rotund boy with horse-like voice. And yet another Blondie.

"Bring Monmon to the infirmary. And be careful. Use levitation spell."

Ah, yes. That's the spell that defies gravity, right? Some sort of telekinesis, maybe? I can do telekinesis.

Montmorency is now floating about a meter and a half away from the ground. She's already passed out, probably due to blood loss.

"Hurry!"

"Aye-aye, Boss!"

Malicorne hurriedly scram through the door, followed by the unconscious body of little bloody Montmorency.

The sight is pretty funny, actually. Floating about like that, her body seems to be moving on their own will, While Montmorency is actually in comatose.

I secretly wish that her head would hit the doorframe. That would be hilarious.

When the steps of Malicorne can no longer be heard, the classroom fell into dead silence, with everyone staring at me.

Awkwaaard…

"Err…sorry?" I said trying to break the silence.

Still a dead silence.

After a while, Guiche is the first one to talk.

"Sorry?"

Err…yes?

"You just kicked my girl into a bloody lump, and the only thing you can say is sorry?"

"Err…yes? I did not see her?"

"What did you mean you DID NOT SEE HER?"

"Because I'm blind?"

Silence. Again.

Guiche seems to be about to explode.

Eh, her angry face is pretty cute, tough. That short golden hair perfectly framed her gritting teeth.

Suddenly Kaita interjected, seems to be out of his stupor already.

But the first words that come from his mouth are just this:

"Everyone, back to your seat."

A sentence delivered with calmness and serenity, as if nothing had happened.

"What?" asks Guiche, eyes bewildered.

"You heard me, Mister Gramont. Back to your seat."

"This filthy commoner just kicked my girlfriend in the face, and all you say is 'BACK TO YOUR SEAT?"

"It was an accident!" I tried to reassure them to no avail.

"You deliberately aim for her head!"

"No I'm not! I did not do that on…HEKH!"

Never finished that sentence.

Little Mistress (I'll just going to call her that. Sounds lot cuter.), that's been silent all this time, suddenly pulls me on my collar. I think I felt this choking sensation before. Not sure. I was mad drunk yesterday.

"Excuse me, Professor? But I need to talk to my Familiar."

Not even waiting for an answer, Little Mistress drags me out of the room, and slams the door.

She then turns to face me, looking really, really, pissed.

Though her glare actually looks really cute when you look at it from my point of view. (I'm much, much taller than her.)

"Listens, Elf."

She starts lecturing.

"Little Mistress, please just call me 'Uriel'. We're going to have a problem if someone eavesdropped."

"Whatever. Now listens, you are basically my only way to learn magic right now, and my only way out of this mosh-pit of failure. I won't have you get arrested, or worse, executed for _kicking a noble lady in the face!"_

"It was an accident!"

"Oh, Come on! Both you and I know that it wasn't!"

"Well it was!"

"It was not!"

"It was!"

"Oh, I am _not _playing this childish game!"

_Now_ _that's _a really mature stance taken by someone less than half my size.

"You _will_ get in, and apologize properly to Guiche and later, Montmorency too once she wakes up. If we're lucky, they probably will only punish us lightly."

"Excuse me, Little Mistress, did you just say 'We'?"

"Yes. Technically, you're my Familiar, so you are under my protection, and everything you do is also my responsibility. Like, for example, _kicking a noble lady in the face!"_

"It's an accident." Says me again, not even trying to convince anyone.

"Enough of that. Now get in and apologize."

"Well, Little Mistress, I understand of why I need to apologize to master…mistress (shite, I forgot. Did Montmorency use Master or Mistress?) Guiche, but why Montmorency too? She insulted you."

Little Mistress looks at me with expression of sheer disbelief.

"You kicked her in the face." Says her flatly. With somewhat confused face.

"But she has insulted you."

"You can't just kick her!"

"Well, you can, back in Skyrim."

"Well, this is not Skyrim, alright! This is Tristain! What, does people of Skyrim just kicked the face of anyone who insulted them?"

"Err… do I have to answer that?"

Silence.

Little Mistress is now looks really irritated.

"Damn. What kind of barbaric place did you came from?"

"That's depends on this place's standard. How many people do you have to kill on daily basis?"

"…"

Whoops. Am I not supposed to answer that question?

Little Mistress mouth is now agape. Her eyes is wide open with slight hint of 'what the fuck?'.

Bah, never been good with rhetoric.

Trying to avoid awkward silence again, I resume the conversation.

"Anyway, mistress, you said that I'm under your protection, but I assure you that I can protect myself. If Guiche going to punish anyone, it's only appropriate for it to be me."

Well, not like a 'punishment' going to change anything, anyway, since I'm sure whatever Guiche can throw at me, it can't be worse than…well, you don't want to know.

But I'm going to tell you anyway.

Whatever Guiche can throw at me, it can't be worse than the chapter five of the third book of the 'Lusty Argonian Maid' series, where the eponymous Argonian trying to takes the arse-virginity of a sparkling vampire. With her (giant spiky) tail. _And succeed._

I didn't read it on my own will, of course. One of my students gave it to me (probably as a prank. Kids these days), said it was good. So, out of common courtesy, I read it until the end.

Well, shit, at least I wasn't eating that time. The author gave _faaaar _more details on that scene alone than is needed.

My (somewhat disgusting) train of thoughts suddenly stopped by the cute little voice of my Little Mistress.

"Well, you _might _don't need protection, but I do. If they discovered my Familiar is an elf when they open your hood at the chopping block, I'm _bummed._"

"Oh, come on. I can just talk to them. I'm a pretty nice guy."

"Yeah, try to tell that to the Manticore Corps."

Ah, yes. Manticores. From what Little Mistress described last night, I conclude that they are, in fact, made from combination of sewing kit, a bunch of stuffed animals, and a drunken necromancer. Well, at least they are cute.

"Point. Taken."

"Good. If you understand, let's go back in and apologize."

"Understood. We shall go back and apologize. I'll go first!"

"What? Wait!"

As I opened the door, I did not expect that Guiche would be right at the other side, causing my fist to accidentally collide with her jaw.

Eh, I'm just joking. Having that kind of accident twice, under twenty minutes, is just _way_ too weird even for me.

Instead, I heard this:

"What do you mean I'm going to die? He is but a commoner!"

"No, Master Guiche, what I said is…"

As I entered the room, their conversation ends, and the class back to awkward moment.

Strangely, Kaita is looking at me with what best described as the most interesting 'Oh Shit' face I ever seen.

Is that…fear I see in his eyes?

Is he scared of me? Did he discovered that I'm an elf, maybe? Oh well, if it is so, that's not too big of a concern. I'll just see how long I can keep the masquerade, before I have to start killing everybody.

Well, everybody except mistress, that.

_Maybe._

Still, the moment he saw me, Kaita immediately get back to his stoic face.

"Ah, you're back…"

"Indeed you're back. I thought you have escaped."

"Err…escaped from what exactly…umm…Guiche?"

Guiche looks insulted, for some reason.

"Not even using honorifics to address me now? What kind of barbaric place did you come from?"

"Well, it depends. How many people do you have to…"

"Shut up, Uriel."

"Sorry, Lil' Mistress."

"Don't call me that."

"Sorry."

"Hey, hey. Aren't you a little bit too relaxed of your situation right now?"

"Hmm? And what is my situation right now, your highness Guiche?"

"You realized you just kicked a noble, yes?"

"…in the face, yes."

Silence.

"It was an accident." Add me, again, not even bother trying now.

"Are you joking with me?"

"Maaaybe…."

"You are joking with me."

Well, if you can summon thunderstorm with only three words, then you can afford being funny.

"Yeah, so I am joking with you. So what?"

"You are aware that you're going to be severely punished?"

"NO!"

Holy sod, Kaita, that was loud. Talking about overreacting.

'I mean, he is, after all, the Familiar of Lady Valliere, and hurting another noble's Familiar is forbidden!"

"Then it's Louise that should be punished! For acts of a Familiar falls under the responsibility of their master!"

Hearing this accusation, my Mistress stands unfettered. After a few seconds of silent consideration, she looks upon Guiche, with that determined eyes of her.

"Very well, Guiche de Gramont, you can punish…"

WHAM!

"Is it just me, or that Familiar really just punched Louise in the face?" I heard a random girl talking in the front row of the class.

Hey, it wasn't a punch. Just a gentle slap with the back of my hand, okay?

"What the…" a little disoriented but generally intact, Louise tries to talk again, but I stopped her.

"Nah, Mistress, if the acts of Familiar are the acts of the master, then the sins of the master is also the sin of the Familiar. So, by that logic, I should be the one that need to be punished."

"What kind of reasoning is that!" shriek Mistress, rubbing her nose.

"It's the dragon's reasoning. Your argument is invalid."

Silence again. Guiche and Louise looks at each others.

"Is he insane or something?" asks Guiche.

Mistress just simply throws her hands and shook her head.

"Whatever. I just don't care anymore. Do whatever you want with him."

Wow, that is _rude._

A sadistic smile spawn upon Guiche's face.

"Very well. Familiar, your sin is turning a gentle lady into a pathetic bloody mess. So, the only viable punishment is to turn you into the same state as her, and worse, for she is a pure noble, and you are but a commoner."

Makes sense. I can accept that.

"But I don't want to soil the stone of this great castle with your filth. For that, we shall go to Vestri Court, where the earth can accept your blood."

Ominous words. Dun-dun-dun.

"Professor, the class is over, correct?" asks Guche to the befuddled Kaita.

"I…"

"Good, then Familiar, I shall wait for you at Vestri Court."

'Vestri' means west, right?

"Eh, sure."

"Good,"

Then without even waiting for Kaita's consent, he…or is it she? Leave the class.

Damn. Is no student here respect their teacher? Is that why Mistress keeps punching me although she knows I can kill her with a flick of a finger?

"Huh, Guiche is pretty cocky."

"Of course. He's the son of General Gramont. He has right to brag."

He? So it's a 'he', huh? Very nice elaboration, Mistress.

"What about your family, Mistress? Do they have high influence in society?"

"It's really is not your business, don't you think?"

"Sorry."

"Yeah, anyway…" Mistress starts to walks out of the room. I follow straight behind her. As I expected, we're heading west.

One of the benefits of being a half dragon is the enhanced sense of direction. You'll always know where east, north, south or west are.

"You know you can't use your magic in the open, right?"

"I know."

"Are you going to use a weapon?"

"No"

"So…what exactly are you going to do?"

"Exactly what I've been said. Just stand there and get punished."

Again, Mistress looks at me like she's talking to a man who have the intellect of a potato.

"You…won't die, right? I still needs you."

D'aww, mistress, so you _do_ care!

"Maybe. How powerful is this Guiche, exactly?"

"Well, he's only a dot mage…"

"A dot?"

"It's the classification of mages here, it's…"

"Hey, no need for lengthy explanation, I'm sure I can read it in the library. I need to know more about Guiche. What is her…um, his main method of attack?"

Mistress rub her chin as she walks, obviously trying to remember.

"I'm not sure…I never saw him fighting, but he does have a knack of creating Valkyries."

"Valkyries?"

"It's a small construct being. A low-level golem, if you would say."

"Did he just wave his hand and these Valkyries appear, or they need to be constructed by hand?"

"He just summons them from the ground, apparently."

"Made of single element?"

"Yes. His we're earth."

"What's an 'earth'?"

"Soil, dirt. Whatever."

Oh. Maybe the Familiar link between me and mistress that enables me to speak her language, which originated from a totally different culture than mine, got glitched a bit there, or my language simply does not have a word for 'earth'.

Anyway…

"Okay, so these 'Valkyries' have a clearly defined elemental mark, and can be summoned from nothingness. Back in Skyrim, we call those 'Atronach' "

"Nice info. Very useful." Said Mistress with not so subtle of a sarcasm.

As we continue walking, I noticed a lot of the student scurrying from their classroom to the direction of where we're going. Some of them keep going door to door from classroom to classroom, shouting.

_"Gentlemen! It's a duel!"_

"_A Duel! How exciting!'_

_"Guiche is going to duel! His opponent is Louise's commoner!"_

Wow, news sure spread out fast here.

"Ah, we're here." speak mistress.

Indeed we're here.

It's a wide open area between the main tower and the outer wall. A big surface of dirt with some little patches of grass. And standing in the middle of it we're Guiche, holding a wand that looks like a rose. Hey, I got one of those too. Only bigger.

Surrounding the court, is what can be described as half of the school population.

All of them either cheering Guiche, or throwing insults at me an mistress.

I can see some young girls jumping and I can hear them squealing.

Such annoying sound. Maybe I should kill them.

Anyway, this should be interesting.

* * *

This fic is probably the only Zero no Tsukaima crossover where the Guiche fight happens because _it's the protagonist_ that is being a total jackass.

Anyway, next chapter, a non-standard Guiche fight, and the Dovahkiin being a Chaotic Moron, as always.


	7. Chapter 7

"_**Assassination is NOT a political statement!"**__-Housecarl Lydia to Dovahkiin, after the latter explains his political belief.-_

"_**Kill everything."-**__The Dovahkiin's solution to every problem. __**EVER.-**__(Besides "Add more cheese")_

"_**Everything in that general direction must die! AGAIN!"**__-The Dovahkiin, commanding the Five Housecarls of the Apocalypse against an army of Necromancers.-_

"_**I rape physic for fun and profit. Just go with it, would you? Thank you."**__-Our Dovahkiin. Who else?-(other than perhaps Kamina.)_

Anyway, forgive any grammar error (I remind you, English not my first language.). And I don't own both canons. _I own you. _(Just kidding)

A/N: Dovahkiin can't decide whether to use 'Her' or 'Him' when referring to Guiche because there's no bishonens in Skyrim. Everyone either have the body of Arnold Schwarzenegger or the beard of Chuck Norris. oh, and first time i'm trying to upload this chapter, all the paragraph merged together in a messy pile for some reason. i think i fixed that, though.

* * *

If the world has an arse, I would like to kick it now.

I mean, come on, mate. I don't even understand what's actually going on for the last couple hours.

I walked through a portal, which leads to another continent where your social status is determined by your magic potential. (If a male dominated society is called 'Patriarchal', a society defined by magic would be…Magicarchal, I guess? I need a Thesaurus.)

I was turned into a Familiar, and my master is a cute yet somewhat bossy little girl that does not even reach half my height. (Yet strangely, she treats me as an equal or lower, even though she's completely aware that I am powerful Archmage. Maybe I'll ask about it later.)

And now, I have a Blondie here that thinks he can punish me for simply being me.

And in a huge arse courtyard too, surrounded by spectators age somewhere about fourteen to eighteen. Obviously trying to shame me to death.

The cheering crowd is almost unbearable to my sensitive elven ear. Tough maybe it has something to do with the magic circlet binding it to the back of my head.

Apparently the whole continent hates elf. And I thought the Nord is racist.

I can't keep disguising like this. I'll think about a long term plan later. Maybe it would involves a knife.

"Calm down, people! I'm afraid this is not a duel like you're hoping for! This is but a punishment!"

Oh, the Blondie starts to talk.

Funny that it is just now I noticed that he's wearing pants.

_Punishment? Punishment for what?_

I can overhear some of the female audience commenting above the sea of cheers and insult.

_I heard that Commoner kicked Lady Montmorency in the face!_

_What? You're kidding! No mere Commoner would dare to do such thing!_

_But he totally did! I saw it myself!_

Ah yes. Poor Kaita. I guess with the teacher and student both being a noble, the students just can't muster enough respect for the teachers.

I can imagine his face as he stares helplessly when all his students casually walk outside, totally ignoring him, even though class probably still only halfway through. It's only about one thirty in the afternoon now. (One more perk of being a half-dragon. Absolute time perception.)

Then those students would call the students from another class, setting up a chain reaction that turn the school into half empty husk.

I expect the teacher going to arrive soon.

"For a commoner to taint the face of a Noble, it is simply unforgivable!"

That's the Blondie again, seems to be eager to please the audience. Probably has something to do with the amount of young girls present.

Quite a performance, really.

Maker, why am I here, anyway? I can always fight my way out of this, maybe kill everyone in the continent if I have to, summon Durnehviir, and if we both use Whirlwind Sprint, maybe I can go home before dinner. So why exactly I am here?

As Guiche the Blondie continues his rant that I've stop caring about since the first two and a half sentences, and the crowd that's keeps getting louder and louder, I look over my shoulder. Upon my Mistress.

She looks somewhat…ukh, can't read that expression. Is that…boredom?

Ah, right, now I remember. I have to teach her magic or less she lost her noble status.

But why I even bother with her? I can just kill her.

Maybe I just got bored.

Now that I think about it, I did half of the things (well, most of the things.) I do just because I got bored.

Got bored with plain food, learn to cook.

Got bored with politics, kill the emperor.

Got bored with light, murder the sun with a magical arrow dipped in cursed blood. (He got better.)

A vampire coven destroyed there, saving the world after lunch, have sex with a woman made of flame…all because I get bored easily.

And for your information, I made up that last one. I never had sex with a Flame Atronach. Too hot even for me.

'_Oi, Mistress.'_

'_Wha…?'_

'_Calm down, I talk to you through telepathy. Just think of an answer.'_

'_Telepathy?'_

'_Yes, don't you noticed that it seems like we're speaking the same language despite being from two completely different culture? Well, my theory is that my Familiar bond to you also connects our minds, giving me an instant translation of your language. So, naturally, telepathy between master and Familiar is not too farfetched, right?'_

'_Ah, yes. I heard that sometimes Familiar seems to be able to understand of what the master say. Though not to this extent.'_

'_Maybe that is because cats and monkeys have not yet discovered the art of coherent speech. Anyway, any comment on current situation?'_

'_Yes, be careful of that morning star.'_

'_What star? This is noon…HOLY SHIT!'_

'_Language, please. You are screaming directly to my mind.'_

Well, sorry, Mistress,for being rude, all I know is somehow suddenly there's a woman made of metal trying to kill me.

I seriously need to expand my attention span.

Morning star…ah, you mean the mace.

"Ha! You have a pretty good reflex! Dodging like that!"

Ah. So this is his Atronach. Err… sorry, golem.

The cheers of the crowd got lauder as Guiche swing her, his rose, letting go of one more petal that turns into more golem when it touches the ground.

"I am sorry mister Guiche! My natural response got the better of me! I shall take care next time to not move as you punish me!"

Bam. The crowd turns Silent.

Damn. I just said something stupid again am I?

The sight of my mistress' palm upon her face confirms it.

"Are you not going to defend yourself?" asks Guiche.

"Err…no? You said it yourself; this is not a duel, but a punishment. I shall stand here like an obedient commoner I am."

I can hear the whispering of the crowd, though I'm not sure about what. Probably about me being a masochist or something on that line.

Guiche raises her…his eyebrows, his face clearly saying 'what?'.

"No, no, we can't have that." Guiche shakes his…her head.

"That would be too barbaric for the likes of me, and for the ladies."

I can hear some more girlish squees. Hurts my ears even more. They keep talking about how the gallant Ser Guiche of the Gramonts is so caring to prevents their virgin eyes from the sight of blood.

"Here, take this." Guiche summons a sword from thin air. A really, feminine sword with sod tons of needless intricate designs.

"Might as well make a good show while we're at it. You're a bard, right? You know how to use a sword?" She throws the sword at me, pointy end first. I side stepped, and the sword got embedded in the ground literally inches from my toes.

"Right." I pull out the sword from the ground, spinning it a little bit, let it go for half a second in the air before catching it in reverse grip, a really nice stance for defensive fighting and when you don't want to kill your opponent.

Needless to say, I don't use this stance very often.

I sort of expect the crowd to be impressed with my brief show of swordsmanship, but all I can hear now is a giggle. Guiche's being the loudest.

"Hey, hey." Calls Guiche, barely able to holds his laugh. "You know you're holding that wrong, right?"

"What?"

"_You're holding it backward, moron._" Mocks Little Miss inside my head.

XD

"Riiiight…" I then obediently 'correct' my grip, to what I'd call the Stab-to-dead grip. Using just one hand to hold the sword like a simple pointy stick.

"So, is this a duel, mister Guiche?"

"You talk like you actually have a chance to win."

"Hey, don't be too rough to a blind old man, would you?"

"Lies! Damn bloody lies! I know you aren't blind! The way you dodged my golem just then, and the way you…you….YOU KICKED MY GIRLFRIEND IN THE FACE, ASSHOLE!"

Oh, come on, why people always brought that up? The past is the past!

_Geez, Ser Guiche, to have used such word…_

_He must be very angry at that commoner._

_Such caring and gentle man. If Lady Montmorency hasn't taken him yet, I'm sure will!_

_That commoner is so dead! _

"I don't know what's up with your eyes, but where you came from, probably everyone has eyes like that! So stop pretending!"

"_Hey, Little Miss, how does the elves of this land looks like?" _I asked telepathically.

"_Well, from the tales I've heard, they look just like humans, but with pointy ears."_

"_What about their eyes?"_

"_Their eyes? Well, the tales never tell anything interesting about the eyes, so I guess it should be normal."_

Good. Then my eyes can't be directly linked to my elven heritage.

"Well, alright then, shall we begin?" I asked, moving around my sword arm a little.

Guiche looks at me with quite of an indecipherable expression.

"I don't know if you're really brave or stupid, but you will regret to ever disrespect a noble. Prepare to be punished!"

And with that, one of her…his golem charge.

And by charge, I mean walking slowly with her defense down, confident that I can't harm her.

Either that, or they are just really, really slow. At least the dwemer have the decency to put wheels on their golems.

And don't get me started on that little metal creeps that shoots lightning at your face.

Guiche's Golems, instead, have a huge arse pauldrons.

Anyway, here's the thing I like to do in a fight: I pray.

I'm not too much of a religious person, but some prayer rhymes in a way that helps me concentrate.

And being the children of the great Akatosh, I figure that I can 'Modify' said prayer to my taste without offending anyone. Not much, anyway.

_Sithis, or Padomay, whatever your name is. Of the emptiness, and the void._

Guiche's golem keeps coming closer, closer, and closer, one step at the time with arrogance.

_And Anu, of order and light._

Guiche's golem now is only a few steps away.

_O ancient one! Do __bless this weak arse blade that with it thou mayest slash thine enemies to tiny bits…_

Guiche golem raises her mace aiming at my sword arm.

***CRAEANG!***

_…in thy mercy._

And the ancients did grin. A loud gasps from the audience as the female-looking golem suddenly lost her right arm.

***SKHRANK***

Another slash, and the golem lost both legs, fall to the ground, and turned into nice pile of dust.

_"What the…"_

_"How's that, mistress? I'm pretty good with a sword, yes?"_

_"For an elf undercover, you're not exactly subtle."_

_Whoops._

A silence for a minute or so, complete with dramatic wind before:

"So, want to continue?" I asked Guiche.

"O…of course! Don't you dare to think you have scared me! Commoner!"

Guiche sway her rose again. Some petals fall, and turned into some more tasteless golems with legs.

"Ser Guiche! I do have to asks, is these things made of copper?"

"No, it's bronze! I am Guiche the Bronze! And my bronze Valkyries is the one who shall punish you! CHARGE!"

The golems started to charge. Each of them carrying melee weapons of various shapes and sizes.

I'm charging too. Five golems versus one Dovahkiin collide on the middle of a court.

Then simply passed each other as the Dovahkiin completely ignores the golems and head straight for Guiche.

After experiencing a lot of battlefield situation, I found out that the best way to avoid a melee oriented enemy is to move at exactly forty five degree diagonal opposite of your opponent sword arm. Five bulky golems is no big deal.

And when facing against a conjurer, you must always gut the summoner first!

Guiche, realizing what I'm going to do, sway his rose again, spawning two more golems on my path. Each armed with a mace. And I am running to fast to dodge. Too close.

***WHAM***

Parrying. The art of smashing your weapon against your opponent's weapon as hard as possible and hoping it doesn't breaks.

Needless to say, the cheap, thin bronze sword instantly explodes to million pieces.

The second golem take this opportunity to smash me straight on the chest.

Suddenly, I'm flying. And falling.

Fortunately, being a half dragon, I know quite a bit about landing.

I quickly adjust my center of gravity and fix my orientation mid air and land smoothly on the ground. Legs firmly bended to absorb shocks.

Ouch. My chest sting a bit. That mace must be around 50 kg (It's closer to being a warhammer than a mace.), a normal human would be dead.

"Guiche! What in founder's name did you do!?"

Huh?

"That hit was meant to kill! Are you want to kill him?!"

Well, now that you mentioned it…

Guiche does a handwave. And simply say:

"He's a commoner, yet he dares to raise blade against a noble. He deserves nothing less than death."

Wait, what?

"You gave him that sword!" protest Little Miss.

"He's stupid enough to take it."

Hey!

"That is enough! Guiche, this is madness! This insanity must stop, now!"

'_Hey, Mistress, don't worry, I'm fine! Really!'_

_No! You are __**not**__ fine! We are not fine! When you're sent flying, your hood almost fell!'_

Oh.

Little Miss then speaks to both Guiche and me.

"Enough of this charade! I can't tolerate this no more! Stop this at once!"

"Or what? You're going to hit me with your spell?"

"Guh…"

Ah, yes, I heard that her spell is pretty…explosey.

Guiche then started to laughs. A really, really stinging and unpleasant laughs that my nose wrinkled even tough 'laugh' is not a stench.

"Admit, it, Louise, all you do is a failure, even your familiar prefer death by my blade over being your servant!"

"What? How dare you…don't you aware of who…"

"Yes, yes, you are the Vallieres third daughter. Yet I can't bear myself to respect you. Why? Well, maybe it's because you're such a failure! Just like your knitting!"

Mistress seems to be about to punch Guiche in the face. But the stops, and then she just stare.

"Wait…you knew?" Ask lil' mistress, in slightly horrified tone.

"I found one of you horrible sweater on a desk at Austri court last night."

"AH! So it's you!"

Little Miss lashes out, grabbing Guiche's collar.

"You took it, didn't you?! Give it back!"

Facing the much smaller girl, Guiche simply chuckles.

"Well, it looks so horrible, so I decided to make the world a better place, by feeding it to the horses!"

Wow, this guy a dick.

"Ah…" Mistress suddenly seems to lost her spirit. She let go of Guiche's collar, face down, looking dejected.

"That is…that was supposed to be a birthday gift for my sister…"

Ouch.

One would expect that Guiche would feels like a pile of dung right now, but she instead push little miss away. Of which, having seemingly lost all strength on her legs, simply fall on her butt.

"Eh, whatever. I heard she's about to die anyway."

"Ah…"

"Now, where we at? Ah right, you."

Guiche summoned another sword. And this time, I don't think he planned on giving it to me.

"You die."

_No, YOU die._

What?

I look once upon Guiche's sword, that's currently being pointed at me, then upon my mistress on the ground.

Her eyes fixed at Guiche's oblivious back, an eyes that I know too well.

The eyes of a murderer.

Her hand…her hand is under her cloak, probably on the handle of the strange weapon she was aiming at me this morning.

I run.

I don't know why, but I run. I am running toward my mistress.

"Hey! Where do you think you're going?!" shouts Guiche.

Three of her Golems get in my way. I jump over them, using their shoulder as leverage, to jump even higher.

Then I fall. I'm falling toward Guiche, ready to greets me with the pointy end of his sword.

I blocked his sword with the built-in knee armor of my elven boot, smash Guiche's face with my heel, and land smoothly next to my mistress.

"EEP! MISTER GUICHE!" I hear a scream somewhere.

Before my mistress have chance to react, I extended my right arm.

_**CALM.**_

"Ah…"

"You are now in your room."

"I am inside my room." Repeats Mistress in calm monotone.

Good. The spell's working.

"You are very sleepy."

"I am very sleepy…indeed."

"You're going to simply lie down, close your eyes, and take a quick nap."

"Mm…yes, nap."

She then lies on the ground, and quickly nods off.

_W…What just happened._

_Louise seems to have fallen asleep._

_Was that Familiar doing something just then?_

_No, it can't be. More importantly, look! Ser Guiche has awake!"_

Ah, yes. Guiche has awake, surrounded by bunch of girls.

There's still time before he completely recover. Meanwhile, her golems stand idle.

I look around, and I see a little girl, about the same height as my mistress. Wearing two pieces of glass on her face. Very weird fashion, this place has.

And she also has whity-blue hair. Whichever deity made this place, seriously needs to lay off the hair dyes.

"Hey, kid? Can you take care of your friend here? Bring her to a healer or something?"

The kid did not answers me. But instead, she cast levitation spell at my mistress, grabs her cloak, and drags her away.

All the other students part, giving her way. They seem to be afraid of that strange girl with glass on her face. Weird.

Aanyway…

"YOU!"

…back to the little twerp. Still surrounded by girls trying to wipe his face.

Guiche is now bleeding in hilariously similar way to his girlfriend. I probably broke a nose there. Hehe.

"First my little Monmon, now ME! You're dead!"

*Clap*

I clapped.

"W…what…?"

*Clap*

"Congratulation."

"Huh…?"

*Clap! clap! clap! clap! CLAP! CLAP! CLAPCLAPCLAPCLAP!*

"Congratulation."

***CLAP***

"Congratulation, Ser Guiche, you just managed to piss me off."

Guiche looks confused. But shortly, his cocky grin appears again.

"Ha! So what?! What are you going to do? Explode? Like you mistress?!"

"No, I'm just going to…"

I calmly walk toward the nearest golem, who tries to hit me, but missed (Of course!) and now I stepped on her mace. Embedded in the ground, she can't pull it out.

I quickly grab her head, and start to squeeze.

Heh, it's not solid, just like a helmet.

The golem's head start to produce some sickening sound. Not long after, the cheap metal gives in and turned into a crumpled mess. The rest of the golem then turns into dust, scattered by the wind.

"…do that. But on your head."

I saw Guiche's face, and then the girls surrounding him. And understandably, they're terrified.

The girls quickly run off to safe distance. Guiche summons more cheap-arse golems.

The one nearest to me swing her sword at me. I give her a nice leg-sweep, and she falls to the ground. I raise my right leg, and bring it down with all my might.

A fight between moonstone, bronze, and the earth. The bronze and the earth lost, resulting in a nice pile of dust that used to be a golem. Cheap-arse golem.

"Ah…"

"Well, Ser Guiche…"

I am now walking in an even pace, one step at a time, toward the little boy in front of me. I'm about to kill a child.

I give him my brightest of smile, to assure him that I, for once, am not lying.

"Ser Guiche, I'm going to kill you now. So, would you kindly, prepare to die?"

"Ah...ah…"

Guiche, in a hurried attempt to run away from me, fall on her butt. Bloody moron.

"S…stay away!"

Another two golems charge at me. The nearest swing her mace. I grabbed its arm with one hand, and nice strong uppercut to the elbow break the entire arm clean off.

The other golem, trying to get a sneak attack on my back, promptly gets slapped by her friend disembodied hand so hard its head come off. And then it falls apart to dust.

I then returned my attention to the other golem that has lost its arm. I kick it on the stomach, forcing it to hunch over, and then with my elbow and knee simultaneously, turn its head into a nice metal pancake that only serves to remind me that I haven't had lunch yet.

This golem too, falls apart to dust.

"W…what are you made of?!" asks Guiche in a terrified tone"

"Forty five percents dragonbone." I answered truthfully. "And by the way, bronze sucks."

I draw the Blade of Woe from a pocket on my bag. Glad I didn't lose it when I came here, a teleportation can be handful.

"Now…" I show Guiche my blade. Glowing sinister red, fully charged and ready to kill. "Die…ouch!"

I suddenly felt something soft hit me with the velocity of…a furious dark haired little girl carrying a basket?

"S-S…stay away from Ser Guiche!" scream the little girl. All the while pulling out a fruit knife from her basket, and charging straight at me.

I look upon the ground, to a small, brown object that I presume is the one that has hit me on the face.

_A chocolate…Soufflé?_

"EEEEP!"

The little girl screams cutely, while trying to pierce me with a dinner kit.

"K…KATIE? What are you doing?!" called Guiche.

So her name is Katie, huh? She's wearing a different colored cloak than Guiche, and she seems younger than Montmorency, so I guess she's an underclassman.

She tries to stab my stomach, but I stopped it with my index and middle finger. She quickly pulls it away and starts the second barrage of silverware carnage. Each time she attacks, the blade embedded itself to my left forearm, leaving small hole that my regeneration can takes care in a second. But it's still hurts as sod.

Her attack…it's clumsy, desperate…

*SCHONK*

…yet is good enough distraction for me that one of Guiche's golem managed to land a clean hit square on my face. With a giant mace.

Suddenly, I found myself flying again, and this time with nose so hurt I can't think straight.

*Thud* I fell unceremoniously to the ground.

"Haha! Take that you…oh."

I quickly recover and back to my feet, only suffering minor fracture to my nasal bone of which my regeneration quickly takes care of.

What I don't understand is, why now all the people present are currently pointing their wand at me. Some even has start chanting.

The realization hit me hard in the gut when I see a crumpled messy pile of silver on the ground.

Man, I know I shouldn't bought the cheap stuff.

That hit by Guiche's golem got me straight on the soddin' forehead. Although my dragonbone cranium can easily stand it, not so the case with the cheap silver of my magic circlet. And the fall then just shook my hood straight off from my head, exposing my pointy ears.

Eh, shit.

"IT'S AN ELF! THERE'S AN ELF IN THE CASTLE!"

Wow, they really hate elf, aren't they?

"CALL THE GUARDS! CALL THE GRIFFIN KNIGHTS! CALL THE MANTICORE CORPS! CALL THE QUEEN!" scream a little boy, running away from the court, alongside half of the audience that are not pointing their wands at me.

"NO! YOU IDIOT! CALL THE TEACHERS!" says a more reasonable girl.

Huh, so I've been found out.

Time to kill everyone.

A student finished a chant, and a small fireball flies towards me. I effortlessly create a minor warding to block it.

I can see the boy who thrown the fireball panicked. "T…That was my strongest spell! It's just like the tales! They are immune to our magic!"

No, that fireball just weak.

Where was I again? Oh, right. kill everyone. Guiche's first, I guess.

I resume to walk toward Guiche, who seems to be petrified.

"Ah…I picked a fight with an elf…" I can hear her mumble.

"No! You can't touch him!"

Oh, wait. There's still that girl Katie on the way. Well, I guess she's first then. I raise my blade…

Suddenly, I hear a sudden gust of wind, and the crackle of flames.

I can just barely block it with heavy warding.

The teachers have entered the fray at last.

I can see Kaita, that bald professor from my summoning, and short, pudgy woman with brown hair tied neatly in a bun.

"HAHA!" shout Kaita in triumph. "I know he's an elf! I recognized those cheekbones anywhere! My research is not for nothing, after all!"

So, the cheekbones, huh? Damn, tough no one would notice.

Oh well, one should always learn from their mistakes.

"Mrs. Chevreuse, would you kindly call our dear old Osmond from his quarter?" said professor Colbert with calm, collected tone. "We might require his power. Elf is strong."

I won't deny that. Especially as a half-dragon elf.

"Y…yes! Right away!" said the pudgy woman before scurrying away.

"And children! what are you doing here?! go and take shelter!" said professor Colbert once more to the students that's even now, still pointing their wands at me. Tough no one is chanting.

"No! We would fight! In the name of Brimir, we shall purge this filthy elf from the face of earth!"

"For the holy land!"

Wow, quite the patriotic fervor, these young ones.

From the looks of it, there's no way the teachers can forbid the students from trying to kill me.

Well, I would like to not kill any children. Not until Boethiah and Namira decided which of them should take care of dead children. Besides, until the renovation of the seventh hell is completed, Mister Dagon said I shouldn't kill too much people anyway. And Meridia have been constantly complaining about the surplus of dead people and the clogged reincarnation cycle for weeks.

Let's see if I can just scare them. _**FLAME ON!**_

Bum. I spontaneously combust. Well not combust, more like wearing armor made of flame. My flame cloak spell, to be precise.

The teachers and some students only flinched a few steps back, but otherwise stand firm in their battle stance with their wands and staves. Most of the other students fled the scene really, really fast. Including Guiche and Katie.

"The Founder protects!" screams one of the students. And the students start to chant their spell. Aimed at me.

"No! Wait!" orders professor Colbert, to no avail.

Alright, kiddo, want a fight? Then _let's dance!_

* * *

Next chapter: Dovahkiin versus entire Tristain Academy of Magic.

And kudos for anyone managed to spot the Neon Genesis Evangelion reference. (Still the worst ending ever. Not even MASS EFFECT 3 can compare.)

PS: should I use MS WORD or notepad to write ? tried to use notepad once and everything turned to jumbled mess.


	8. Chapter 8

Wow. Last year of high school is tough.

Vacation is nice, makes me fat and lazy.

I can't stop imagining the Dovahkiin calling Odahviing "Nii-chan" or calling Paarthurnax "Jii-san". Also, Babette would totally refer to Serana as "Nee-sama".

Anyway, here's a little side chapter explaining a part of the reasons of how Louise become a badass. Some parts was shamelessly copied from the light novel because I'm especially bad at third person serious narrative. And when I said 'bad', I mean 'epic fail'. Can't go a paragraph without making a deranged joke. Fortunately, Sheogorath is in this chapter, That should make things easier.

Oh, and I lied. This chapter would be about Louise fighting a bear.

And yes, I'm fully aware that my grammar suck-arse. Anyone wants to be my beta-reader? My grammar's not that hopeless, is it? I'm an Indonesian. (well, maybe it is that hopeless. Don't even bother.)

Anyone here plays World of Tanks?

* * *

_Gaah…where am I?_

Louise opened her eyes, and she sees herself.

Now she knows that she is dreaming, for this Louise in front of her, is much, much younger than her.

She tries to look at her own hands, but finds out that she can't. She then realizes that she can't see her legs either, and that she doesn't even posses a body.

She then realizes that she is merely a watcher, simply observing as her life story playing in front of her.

_What in the name of…why am I dreaming? I don't remember going to sleep…last thing I remember was…_

Louise comes to a sudden realization.

_That elf! He did something to me! I'm just about to shoot…I'm just about…when he…_

Louise then found out, that it is really difficult to think coherently when inside a dream.

Fortunately, she doesn't need to think much, as the voice of her mother suddenly breaks her line of thoughts.

"Louise, where are you? Come out now!" shouted her mother.

The Observer!Louise silently watches as the Dream! Louise running around nears a house, eventually hiding in the bushes of the labyrinth-like vegetation to hide from her pursuers.

Observer!Louise checks her surroundings, and she recognizes the place as her family mansion, a three day ride away from the Tristain Academy. This is where she was born.

She then remembers this particular scene. There's no way she would forget, for this was the day when she met _her._

She remembers it clearly. That day, like always, she was being reprimanded due to her poor results in magical studies.

She's been always being compared with her sisters, who had much better results than her.

Louise can hear a footsteps coming. It was the servants.

"Miss Louise really is hopeless at magic."

"I completely agree. Why can't she be like her two older sisters who are very good with magic?"

Dream!Louise, upon hearing those words, felt sad and dejected. as she bit her lips, The servants have started looking for her in the vegetation. Dream!Louise tried her best to escape.

Ah, yes. How she remembers those dark days when she thinks magic is everything. When she lives under the constant fear of being _nothing._

Now that she looks back at how she were, she realizes that she was pathetic. Sad, even.

She remembers how even the slightest hit against her ego could send her into spiraling wreck of angst, of when she would sulk for hours inside her sanctuary. Her secret garden, the central lake.

The central lake was the only place where Louise felt at ease. It was tranquil, with no one else around. Flowers bloomed everywhere and birds gathered on the benches near the lake. And in the middle of the lake there was a small island on which a small house made of white marble rested.

Next to the island was a small boat originally used for leisure, but now derelict and forgotten. Her older sisters had grown up, and were busy studying magic. Her father, who had retired from his military duties, now spends his time mingling with the nobles nearby. Her father's only pastime was hunting wild game. Her mother's only interest was to teach her daughters and could not care less about anything else.

Therefore, besides Louise, no one ever came to the forgotten lake anymore, much less remembered that small boat. That is why whenever Louise was reprimanded, she would come to this place.

That day was no different.

The younger version of Louise jumped onto the boat and snuggled into a blanket that was prepared earlier.

Suddenly, as she hid inside her blanket, a noble clad in a cloak appeared from the mist-covered island.

"Who…who's there?"

But Louise knew exactly who he was: he was the Viscount, the noble who had just inherited the lands around her homeland. Louise felt warm and fuzzy inside; the Viscount was the man of her dreams. They had often frequented banquets together and, furthermore, their fathers had already made an engagement.

"Is that you, Viscount Wardes?"

Louise haphazardly covered her face; she did not want the man of her dreams to see her crying. It would be too embarrassing.

But the voice she hears after that, though, throws that worries straight out through the window. It wasn't the voice of Viscount Wardes. In fact, it's was the voice of _a woman._

"Nope." Answered the voice calmly. "Not the Viscount, my little dear."

Louise feelings of shame quickly turned into anger.

"W…Who are you?! And what are you doing with the Viscount's clothes?!"

Because that is definitely Viscount Wardes clothes. No one else in Tristain use imported linen from Gallia for their cloak.

"Aha! Hahaha!"

The woman walks out of the shadows, revealing a pale, pointy face and a long black hair. The viscount cloak is clearly too big for her, hiding her stature.

"Neighihihihihihihihi!"

Well, actually, it's less 'walking' than it is 'tap-dancing' towards Louise. All the while laughing like a mad horse. If horse was made from pure nightmare.

Louise, without realizing, has stepped all the way until her back pressed against the side of the boat.

"Who…who are you..?" repeats Louise, but this time with a hint of fear instead of anger.

She's no commoner, that's for sure. No commoner can give Louise that much of a cold sweat. No commoner can let out that much aura of dominance, and no commoner would have eyes that…oh Founder WHERE ARE HER EYES?!

"Huh? Eyes?" said the woman, confused.

She then pokes her empty eye socket with her index finger. Louise can feels her stomach contents raise up her throat.

"Oi blimey, I know I forgot something."

The woman closed her eyes for a moment, and when she opens it again, Louise literally fall from her boat, into the lake below.

_SPLASH!_

"See? Now I have sixteen eyes! HAHA! SEE!? I SEE! Nyahahahahahahha!"

Straight from each of her eye sockets, sprout out an eight-legged, eight-eyed hairy monstrosity the size of grown man closed fist.

"S…Spider!" scream Louise. "SPIDER!" With fear taken control of her body, she Ignores all logic, and tries to swim all the way back to the mansion, and that is incredible, considering that she can't swim five seconds ago. Because fear gives you wings (and fins, apparently.).

Suddenly, Louise felt something soft and slimy grabbing her ankle, and drags her underwater.

After few second of hopeless struggle and panic jittering, Louise find herself back at the shore of the small island.

And then she sees what was grabbing her ankle. It was a thing so monstrous, Louise did not even bother to screams before he kick it back into the water.

"Hey! Don't be so mean to Mr. Lovecraft!" shout the woman, which still has tarantulas for eyes.

"Wh…WHAT IS THAT?!"

"Well, it's Mister Lovecraft, of course! My pet octopuzz!"

"Octopus!? What are an Octopus?! WHAT ARE YOU?!"

The woman went silent for a while as she trying to catch her 'eyes' which have pop out of their sockets and start to crawl around her hair.

Finally she shrugged and sighs.

"Eh, blunders. Why I need eyes in the first place? Anyway, my name is Sheogorath, and I am here to change your life. Hey, where are you going?!"

Without second thought, Louise's run in a speed she has never believes that she's capable of. And she keeps running deep inside the forest.

_She's a demon! Definitely a demon!_

Louise decides to look back to see if the demon is in pursuit.

Bad idea.

WHAM!

Louise hit something big and hairy.

"What the…."

"Ah! Yes! Mr. Lenin! Hold her there!" shout the demon from somewhere inside the forest, getting closer and closer to Louise.

And then Louise sees a bear.

A really, really, big brawny brown bear.

Louise has only saw a bear once, as one of her sister's many pets, but this bear… it's big.

Imagine a medium sized house made from pure carnage, covered in a wall of fur, and a big door made of razor sharp death.

And faster than any wind mage, Louise bolts out.

And immediately crash into the demon herself.

"Well, hello there, lil' fella! Where ya going?"

Louise's body froze over, as the demon looking at her with her empty, bloody eye socket. What used to be her eyes now crawling around her face.

Louise looks back, and see that the bear is only a few meters away, with its hind legs bend, ready to torn her to shred.

Louise closes her eyes, ready to accept the inevitable. Maybe being killed by a crazy demon is not so bad after all. Everyone consider her a failure anyway.

"Wait! ! We can't kill her!" shouts the demon, with exaggerated gesture that spill the blood from her empty eye sockets all over the place.

_Huh? She isn't going to kill me? Oh no! am I to become her servant in hell? I rather die!_

The demon then takes something from behind Viscount Wardes' cloak, and gives her to the confused Louise.

"Here, it's loaded."

Louise can't even think clearly by this point.

"A…Flintlock…?"

"Well, it's actually a Wheellock. An old design, I admit, but I've done a few tinkering with it. Now…"

The demon then diverts her attention to the castle sized bear.

"…You can kill her."

Louise screams can be heard all the way from Toronto in another dimension as twelve fucktons of pure murdermeat descended upon her.

* * *

Anyone here watch Girls Und Panzer?

Yeah. It's crap. It's a fanfiction. 90% of them are crap. From the other 10%, however…I will recommend:

**Hill of Swords**, for obvious reason.

**Unfamiliar**, A [Prototype]-ZnT crossover, of which Louise gain double personality that seems to be pulled out straight from _Higurashi._

**The Fearful Void**, for anyone who ever thinks that Alma Wade just needs a hug. (guilty)

**Zero's Shock**, in which Fouquet gets Pokeball-ed.

Anyway, although it's maybe too late, I would say merry Christmas and happy new year 2013, glad that we aren't dead, and…

Does vampires piss blood?


	9. Chapter 9

You know the one thing I dislike most about children? They're too cute to kill.

I mean, it's not like I don't want to kill them…they are probably the most annoying thing I have ever encountered.

But…they are so criminally cute, it's as if they are invincible.

I admit, 'cuteness' is a rather strange weakness. It as if the world realizes that it has messed up by creating the most unstoppable creature in all of history, and then tries to balance it out by giving me a weakness. But then they already make it so that I would be pretty much invincible to any physical or magical damage.

So, weakness to cuteness.

Even when I fought Guiche, I know I won't be able to kill him…her.

The face he made when I threaten to crush his skull is too cute.

The fat one isn't too cute, maybe I can stab him.

Now I realizes that my magic isn't too well suited for a non lethal warfare.

Maybe I can freeze them? Nah, frostbite can kill. They can kill very well, in fact.

Chop their legs off? No, blood loss.

Maybe breaking their bones? That sounds acceptable, right?

_WHOOOSH!_

It's hard to think when a giant snake made of flame is trying to eat you.

That Colbert guy is good.

Too bad I'm wearing flame cloak.

Oh, and a fireproof beard. That is a must to all dragon hunters worth their salt.

"Flame is useless against his armor spell! Use something else!" shouts Kaita.

"Damn it!"

The mages of this world seems to be 'locked' to a certain element of Destruction, or at least have strong affinity to it.

So I guess Colbert doesn't like using anything other than flame magic.

Granted, when you find an obstacle in life, burning it to death is usually is the best option.

But I think that you got to be more creative in your way of killing people.

Just last week, in fact, that I discovered a way to stab people in the heart while still keeps it beating.

If I just left the knife there, every heartbeat would make the cut wider, bringing the victim closer to death.

Anyway, back to the current fight…

There's something very annoying about being a half-dragon.

The mere possibility that somewhere up your family tree, your grandmother did 'that' with a dragon, is enough to keep you from concentrating.

So I sing. Guess those times at the bard school is

_We're merry men of Skyrim  
So sturdy and so stout  
When the day is done  
When it's time for fun  
We'll drink and sing and shout!_

I dodged another fireball, though there's no need to, since I'm on fire. Flame cloak is a wonderful spell.

That was the girl with a twin mountain for a chest from before. I think her name is Kirche?

And there's that girl with the glass on her face. She's already back from delivering Little Miss, I see. Hm... blue short hair

I like the color blue. And purple too. Remind me of the Soul Cairn.

Thought I personally think that 'hell' is overrated. It's quite comfy in there, after you get used to the sorrowful screams of the untimely dead.

Oh and the girl with the blue hair is now working together with the one with the red hair in a joint attempt to murder the shit out of me.

"Tabitha! I can't hit him with that flame cloak still on! Try to put it out!"

"Understood."

The short girl with blue hair start to swing around her staff (It's a large staff with a crooked end, the kind an old man would use to bash a little kid.) and a sudden gust of icy wind put my flame cloak out of commission.

"Ha! Good job, Miss Tabitha!" Shout Colbert in triumph. And there's out his giant flame snake again.

"Oi! Chill out, Mate!"

I summon an ice thrall.

"Is that an Ice Giant?!" screams one of the student. Don't know which one. Not like I care.

"He just summoned an Ice Giant with a snap of a finger!"

Hey, we magus of Tamriel might not be able to fly, but at least we can open a gate to hell willy-nilly.

The Flame Snake giant jaw is big enough to swallow a grown man in single gulp, but my Ice Thrall ain't going to stay still and let himself get eaten.

Anyway, that girl with blue hair use ice magic, and the red one use flame magic. If everything is color coded like this, my life would be way easier. Can't wait to meet an earth mage with green hair, ha!

Anyway, as I watch the flame snake struggle with the giant spiked punch of my "Ice Giant", I see that this fight has gone…boring.

And yes, it is boring, at least by my standard.

Let's spike things up a bit.

I snap the fingers of both of my hand.

"Arniel, Lucien, Come forth."

Another rips on the veil of reality, and two of my must trustworthy servants come out of the plane of Oblivion.

Well, trustworthy, because they are dead.

"Are those…ghosts?" I can hear Kaita mumble.

"Heh, seems like you get into an interesting situation, Listener. Again." Snarks Lucien Lachance, my spectral assassin.

"Well yes." I answered bluntly.

"So, what's the plan?"

"In the count of three, everybody start killing somebo…"

**Poweeerrrr!**

"What the sod…"

**Uuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuunnliiiiiiii imiteEEd poweeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeRR!**

Arniel Gane, the former professor of the College of Winterhold, now a ghost, shot a stream of lightning from his fingers and quickly knocked out a few students.

And then he charges for the teacher.

"Damned by the Dread Father! He said in the count of three, you jackass!"

Poor Arniel, since that experiment with Dwemer artifact, his head has never quite right. Maybe I should told him that when a single event wiped out an entire advanced civilization, you generally don't want to repeat it.

"I think I'm just going to watch the fight from above."

"Whatever." Lucien then draws his Bound Dagger.

"Alright! _DURNEHVIIR!_"

And then a giant dragon comes from the bottom of the Soul Cairn and start walking around on the Vestri Court. No, really.

No special effect, no ominous music. Just poof! Giant, immortal, man-eating machine.

The battlefield is almost completely silenced, as the residents of Halkeginia simply gawk at the sudden randomness the series of events has taken.

And a red haired boy got fried by Arniel Gane.

Now, I have an Ice Thrall, Arniel, Lucien, and Durnehviir on my side. Any Conjurer with half a brain will tell you how dangerous it is to summon more than two creatures at a time from beyond the Veil. But sod, I'm the Dovahkiin, bitch. If they ever going berserk, I'll kill them myself.

"I…It…it's…"

Come on, spit it out.

"IT"S A DRAGON!"

Ah yes, now most of the children have left the battlefield, pissing their pants, I can concentrate more on killing the teachers.

There's only Kaita and Colbert plus a few of very brave and stupid students.

"This is too much! Retreat!" screams one of the students.

Ah? Running away now? So all it took is one giant dragon to make you listen to tour teacher? Man, I'd hate to be a teacher in this place.

The 'Ice Giant' has been completely melted by now, and the flame snake has disappeared.

Colbert uses this chance to shepherd the children out of Vestri Court.

I dismissed Arniel and Lucien.

"_Thuri."_ Call Durnehviir in dragon language.

"Yes, brother?"

"What just happened?"

"A random bullpoop. Just like always."

"And who is she?"

"Hm?"

Ah.

It's Little Miss.

She's walking here.

Why is she looks pissed off?

She keeps walking until she's about five meters away from me.

A girl that almost can be called midget, facing two mystical beings with enough power to crush an army.

The girl reaches below her black cloak, and pulled out a gun.

Uh-oh.

I can hear a spinning noise…

**BAM!**

…and then everything went black.

-The End-

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Author notes:

Aaaaaaaaand…I've completely lost interest on this fic. I'll end it here for now.(i will continuing it, though unlikely anytime soon. uriel is not dead. he has dragonbone skull.

I think I'm going to write a Sword Art Online fic after this. It would be like some sort of review on SAO, but SAO as a Video Game, not an anime.

Although I also have an idea for Saint Row/Nanoha FanFic….

Or maybe I should continue on VOLTAGE, my To Aru Majutsu/InFamous/FarCry3/GTA 4 mega cross-over?

Choices…choices….


End file.
